


the heart that i stole (i'm not giving back)

by cookiemonsta



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Douchey-Roommate!Chad, F/M, Fluff, Goofball!Jared, Jensen In Glasses, M/M, Schmooooooooop, Slash, Writer!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiemonsta/pseuds/cookiemonsta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is a struggling writer, desperate to get one of his books on the NYT bestsellers list, but his muse has left him high and dry. Inspiration comes in the form of Jared, who teaches Jensen that sometimes life doesn't go the way you planned. Sometimes it's even better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the heart that i stole (i'm not giving back)

**Author's Note:**

> Jared/Jensen with mentions of Jensen/Jeff and Jared/Genevieve. Written for [spn_j2_bigbang](http://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com/).

“Three weeks, Jensen. I need a first draft in three weeks.”

Jensen Ackles is no stranger to deadlines. In fact, he's pretty damn familiar with them, being a writer and all, so the fact that his new editor is shoving one in his face is not entirely unjustified. But he'd never tell Mike that.

“I get it, Mike,” Jensen offers, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Three weeks. Crunch time, just like always.” 

There's silence on the other end of the line. It lasts about ten seconds, just enough time for Jensen to steal a sip of warmish coffee, and then Mike's tinny reply bursts loud and obnoxious in his ear. 

“Listen, I might be new at this whole editing gig, but I'm not an idiot, and I'm not about to put up with your whiny, pretentious bullshit.” 

Jensen smiles and cradles the phone against his ear. “Whiny, pretentious bullshit?”

On the other end of the line, Mike laughs. “Hey, you're the writer, not me. I'm not the one getting paid to create pieces of literary genius. That's more _your_ thing. Speaking of your things, have you spoken to Jeff recently?”

This time it's Jensen's turn to go quiet. He hasn't spoken to Jeff since... _since_. Mike seems to sense the eggshells he's treading on, and quickly steers the conversation to safer ground.

“But you're writing, aren't you? I mean, I know that stuff with Jeff was hard - ”

“Mike,” Jensen starts, “Just drop it okay? It's been four months, I'm dealing.” 

“And I respect that. You need time to... work your tortured artist mojo, or whatever. I get it, Jensen. All I'm saying is, maybe it's time you got back on that horse.”

Jensen remains silent for two reasons – one, he's angry that his editor is trying to give him relationship advice, because seriously, what the hell is he thinking; and two because maybe, just maybe, Mike is right.

“You know I'm right,” Mike says, and Jensen would punch him if he were within reach because that whole mind reading thing is _freaky_. 

“I hate you.” 

“You love me, Jennybean.”

Jensen stifles a few choice expletives and levels his gaze at the manuscripts on his desk – they're crap, Jensen knows they are, but that's all he seems capable of these days. Like it or not, Mike is right. He needs to get out there and get inspired. 

Decision made, he presses the phone closer against his ear. “So, three weeks?”

“Think you're up for it, Jennybean?”

“I think I'm going to fire you if you keep calling me Jennybean.”

“Whatever, you _like_ it.”

“I'll call you in a few days, Mike, see what's brewing.”

“You know the drill,” says Mike, and Jensen hears the click as the call ends.

This is it, Jensen decides. This book is going to be the one he's proud of, the one he'll send to his Mom in Austin because he's finally done it, finally made it onto the bestseller list. It's a tall order, but it's not impossible. 

Throwing back the covers, Jensen heads for the shower.

\+ + +

An hour later Jensen is showered and dressed.

Pulling on an overcoat, he digs in the pockets for his keys and heads for the door - time to make good on his promise. His truck is parked outside, his beaten up, reliable truck and he slides behind the wheel, shutting the door with a squeak. 

It's freezing - Jensen's breath mists in front of his face so he rubs his hands together before turning the key. The truck sputters to life and Jensen heads for the ferry dock, early morning sunlight ghosting over his skin. 

The dock is crowded with early morning commuters, and Jensen queues up behind a big family sedan, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. There's a little boy in the back seat, round face smiling at Jensen through the rear windscreen and Jensen smiles back, feels it form easy and comfortable on his face. 

There are cars lining up behind him now, curving back towards the main road like one long, mechanical caterpillar and for once Jensen’s rash decision making is turning out for the better. Scanning the line of cars, Jensen catches his reflection in the rear view mirror and realises with a jolt that he hasn't shaved in a week. He runs a hand over his chin, scratches at the stubble that darkens his jaw and resigns to hobo status. God _damn_ Mike and his inopportune pep talks.

Ahead, the line of cars is starting to move and Jensen creeps forward with them, feels the shudder as his truck passes over the iron platform and onto the ferry. Ted comes up to Jensen’s window a few minutes later and gives Jensen a strange look, eyes lingering on his unshaven face. 

There are both pros and cons when it comes to living on an island. For one, it's peaceful. Jensen likes the solitude, the deep swell of the forest around him and the Strait of Georgia stretching out in front of him. On the one hand, it suits Jensen, but on the other, it makes it his “no man is an island” existence kind of hypocritical. Jensen knows pretty much every one who lives on the island - it’s both heart warming and slightly annoying because it goes both ways – they all know Jensen too. 

Ted is a haggard looking guy, but his smile is playful as he holds out a ticket to Jensen, “One way or two, lad?” Jensen smiles back and pays for a return trip. Either Ted’s forgotten that Jensen _lives_ on the island or he’s just messing with him. Jensen's pretty sure it’s the latter. 

Around him, everyone is getting out of their cars and heading up into the warmth of the ferry's cabin but Jensen decides to stay put. He tucks his hands into his armpits and thinks about the little boy in the back seat, smiling softly to himself. Closing his eyes against the overcast sky, he rests his head against the seat and listens to the churning sound of the ramp being raised, the whirr as the ferry starts powering up. 

It’s been a while since Jensen’s made the trip, four months to be exact, but already Jensen feels the tension start to loosen in his shoulders.

\+ + +

“Chad, put that down.”

“Dude, relax. It's a tent pole.”

“Which you're waving around like a lightsaber. It's scaring the customers.”

“ _You're_ scaring the customers.”

“What are you, _twelve_? Wait, don't answer that.”

Dodging Chad's punch to the shoulder, Jared Padalecki runs a hand through his hair and smiles broadly at an approaching customer. 

“Can I help you, ma'am?”

Chad watches the entire exchange, and not for the first time finds Jared's ability to charm the elderly a little, well, scary. After a moment, Jared joins Chad at the counter again, having steered the elderly woman towards the portable stoves.

“Your zen with the elderly is really starting to freak me out, Padalecki.”

“Well at least I _have_ zen,” Jared counters, smirking at Chad with something like a challenge in his eyes. It's a test, Chad knows it is, but their manager won't appreciate two of her employees giving each other noogies while on the clock. Jared had to know that, the sneaky bastard.

The sneaky bastard in question leans casually against the counter, a lazy sprawl that shows off his long legs and narrow hips. The uniform he wears does nothing to diminish the long lines of his body, strong from hiking in the Vancouver wilderness. 

“Dude, you keep sprawlin' like that, Gen's gonna bust your ass,” Chad says, but Jared isn't listening.

The sun's just starting to peek out from behind the clouds and Jared itches to be outside, to smell the mountain air and get away from the hustle and bustle of city life. His shift doesn't end for another eleven hours though, so as much as he wants to be elsewhere, Jared's pretty much stuck. Plus, he needs the money. 

“Gen's coming to pick me up after my shift,” Jared says, looking over his shoulder at Chad, “Wanna grab a beer with us?”

“Man, I'm sick of being your third wheel,” Chad whines. 

Jared almost feels sorry for the guy, _almost_ , until Chad picks up the tent pole again and starts prodding him in the shoulder with it. Chad's his best friend, sure, but sometimes even Jared has to admit that the guy's got the emotional maturity of a howler monkey. And he means that in a very caring way.

Grabbing the aforementioned tent pole from Chad, Jared heaves a sigh and resigns himself to eleven hours of Chadwatch. _Live the dream, Padalecki._

\+ + +

Jensen wakes to the sound of tapping against his window - it’s the little boy again, smiling up at him through mouse brown bangs. Jensen removes his face from the window, embarrassed by the tiny trail of drool on the glass and the awkward angle of his glasses on his nose.

Another few minutes pass as Jensen watches everyone climb back into their cars, hears the thud of doors opening and closing. The ferry is starting to slow down, engines subsiding as they maneuver towards the dock. 

There’s a small jolt and the ferry stops altogether, Jensen skims his hands over the steering wheel and checks his beard one last time. Turns out, Hobo doesn’t look that bad on him. 

Jensen hears a rush of sound as everyone starts their engines, a burst of impatient energy and excitement. He gives in to it and starts his truck too. The gates open a moment later and one by one they’re waved off the ferry. Jensen nods at Ted as he passes, squinting against the early morning sunlight as he makes his way into town.

Fiddling with the glove compartment, Jensen rummages through paper and gum wrappers before he pulls out a dusty cassette tape, shoving it in without looking. The song that plays is familiar and Jensen taps the steering wheel as he sings along, loud and uncaring. 

Seconds later, a school bus pulls up alongside him at the lights and Jensen barely manages to turn the music down before he feels dozens of eyes on him. He rubs a hand over his face and tries not to speed off once the lights turn green. _Real smooth, Jensen._

A few miles down the road, Jensen's stomach growls loudly. As much as he insists that coffee is in fact one of the major food groups, Jensen has to admit that the idea of a bagel is too good to pass up.

He decides on a little café just outside town, it’s a small place but there are plenty of cars parked outside and the queue is respectable – must be a local favourite. Pulling into a parking space, Jensen kills the engine and heads inside.

The girl behind the register smiles sweetly at him as he orders – coffee and a bagel – and when she hands him his order a few minutes later, her eyes linger on his face before eventually settling on his lips. Jensen’s used to it, but there’s a small part of him that still feels like an awkward teenager blushing under scrutiny. He smiles back at her, awkward tug of his mouth, and leaves the café.

Sliding back into the drivers seat, Jensen takes a sip of coffee. It's good, rich and flavourful and he makes a mental note to come back.

Pulling back onto the main road, Jensen watches people as they pass, watches them go about their lives just like any other day. As he sits in the cabin of his truck, Jensen frowns into his coffee. How the hell is he supposed to write a bestseller? 

There's only one thing for it, Jensen decides. He's got to visit Jeff.

\+ + +

Later, as Jensen pulls up outside a tiny bookstore, he feels a wan smile pulling at his face. It's been four months, but the ache is still there. Maybe it always will be, Jensen realises.

The sign on the door is flipped to _Closed_ , but as Jensen checks his watch, the sign flips and suddenly Jeff's there, eyes melancholy through the glass. The look is gone as quickly as Jensen noticed it, and suddenly Jeff is opening the door and making his way to the truck. 

Feeling stupid for staying inside his truck so long, Jensen slides out of his seat and makes his way to Jeff. There's a moment where Jeff reaches for Jensen as if to hug him, and for a brief moment Jensen thinks he will, but it's lost when Jeff lowers his arms and meets Jensen's eyes.

“It’s been months, J. How you been?” His voice is the same as always, gravelly and sexy, just this side of hoarse, and Jensen lets the sound wash over him.

“I’m good,” Jensen offers after a moment, running a hand over the back of his neck. For all intents and purposes, he _is_ good, or at least, as good as he can be around Jeff. Eager to lose the awkwardness, Jensen clears his throat and fiddles with his beard, idly scratching it.

“So," Jensen tries, "Business is good?” Jeff fixes him with a knowing look, which Jensen returns and then they’re laughing, just like old times. 

They head inside and instantly, Jensen is overwhelmed by the musky smell of old books and dust. The smell is familiar, and suddenly he's awash with memories of him and Jeff like they used to be, like two peas in a pod and so in love that it hurt. 

Jensen coughs, mentally shaking himself and Jeff fixes him with a knowing glance. 

“J, we’re past this. I’m not gunna lie to you, it hurts like a son of a bitch sometimes, but I’m okay. We’re okay.” 

Jensen can’t meet Jeff’s eyes, knows what he’ll find there so he focuses on the peeling cover of _Moby Dick_ instead, sitting alone on Jeff's counter.

It’s suddenly too close, too intimate, so Jensen walks around to the other side of the counter and wills his heart to slow. It’s been months since he broke things off with Jeff but even now he can sense the hurt in Jeff’s voice. He clears his throat and makes a conscious effort to meet Jeff’s gaze.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” 

Jensen’s voice sounds small and fragile like glass. He scrubs a hand over his mouth and lets all the air out of his lungs in one long breath. Jeff comes around to Jensen’s side of the counter and claps a hand on Jensen’s shoulder, gentle pressure as he squeezes the muscle, searching Jensen’s eyes. After a few seconds Jensen looks up, a sad smile on his face and he can see the hurt in Jeff’s eyes. It's an ache, but a manageable one. 

Jeff clears his throat, a nervous tic that Jensen’s always loved about him, and leads Jensen over to the shelves. 

“So, recognize this?” Jeff quirks an eyebrow at Jensen, cheeky smile tugging at his lips and Jensen snatches the book from him, cheeks flushing. 

“I didn’t know you still stocked them,” Jensen says, dragging a hand across the cover of his last book. Jeff smiles.

“Somebody had to,” Jeff says, dodging a smack from Jensen. 

In that moment Jensen is hopelessly, ridiculously grateful for Jeff. For the support he found in him, for the unwavering confidence in Jensen’s ability when Jensen himself was doubtful. Mostly, he’s grateful for Jeff’s friendship, and sure, it might be tinged with a little sadness but if Jeff can still be friends with him after everything, Jensen won’t deny him that. 

They wander the shelves together and Jeff tells Jensen about the newest bestsellers on the block, gives him the lowdown on what’s selling and what’s not. It always makes Jensen insecure, flicking through a bestseller and getting that familiar pang of jealousy and fear because here’s the proof that it’s possible. Jeff notices the change in Jensen and puts an arm around Jensen’s shoulders.

“You’ll do it, J. One day this is gunna be you,” Jeff says, fingers sweeping over the cover of a bestseller. Jensen swallows and nods, wishing he had half the faith Jeff seems to have in him. As usual, Jeff is uncannily perceptive and steers Jensen away from the bestsellers in favour of the travel section. 

“This is where it’s at,” Jeff says earnestly, pointing at the row of books behind him.

The row is filled with travel books and Jensen steps closer, picks one of the shelf and flicks through it. Jeff watches him, dragging a hand across his beard and smiling fondly at Jensen’s back. It’s a look Jensen will never see, but Jeff knows his expression is too unguarded anyway. He can be there for Jensen, he can be a friend. Even if he wants more. 

Later, when Jensen says goodbye, he promises to visit more often. Jeff laughs and ruffles Jensen's hair as he tells him to stop by when he can.

\+ + +

Bolstered by his visit with Jeff, Jensen heads back into town.

Travel writing, Jeff had said. Jensen turns that over in his mind for a minute, tries to come up with a decent idea and fails. Miserably. Pulling into a parking spot, Jensen kills the engine and leans his head against the steering wheel. He can't afford to fly to Paris, as much as he'd like to, but camping is something he's never really done. It'd make for an interesting experience, if nothing else. And surely, it'd make for an interesting book. Lifting his head from the steering wheel, Jensen spots an REI – now _that's_ more like it. Fate, it seems, is on board with the plan.

Pulling his jacket tighter around himself, Jensen leaves his truck and crosses the parking lot.

Walking through the glass doors of REI, Jensen's eyes land on all kinds of gadgetry - rock climbing gear, gloves, water bottles – and for a moment Jensen feels a little... out of his depth. He should probably ask for help, that'd be the sensible thing to do, but Jensen knows that in doing so, it would admit to the world his complete and utter lack of knowledge about camping gear. 

The store employees are easy to spot. Naturally, they're all healthy and fit, but the uniform helps a lot too. Jensen wanders through the aisles for a few more minutes, contemplating the use of a portable stove when someone taps him on the shoulder. The guy has the weirdest nose Jensen has ever seen, but even as he's trying to hate it, it's somehow working it's charm on him and before he knows it Jensen finds the guy's nose kind of adorable. The guy, Jensen notices belatedly, has dirty blonde hair, pale eyes and a quizzical expression on his face.

"Do I have something on my nose?" the guy asks, and Jensen would take the opportunity for what it is, but he's not _that_ cruel. He is, however, slightly abashed that his perplexed nose-staring was that obvious, and makes yet another mental note to be more subtle. Mysterious even. 

The guy's looking at him with an ever weirder expression now, so Jensen decides it's time to bite the bullet.

"I'm uh - planning a trip,” Jensen says, “I'm not sure where yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm gunna need some gear – or something.” Feeling like a bigger idiot every second, Jensen drops his eyes and spots the silver name tag pinned on the guy's shirt, just below the REI logo. In small, neat letters is the name _Chad_ , next to which is a smiley face sticker, peeling up on one side.

"Well, you've come to the right place, buddy." 

Chad, as is turns out, is a useless employee. He takes Jensen over to see tents and outdoor wear and Jensen asks reasonable questions, expecting reasonable answers. No such luck with Chad. The more he listens, the more Jensen decides that Chad quite possibly skipped employee training.

The point is, Jensen is seriously regretting stepping foot inside this place. He's about to let Chad go, nice and easy when he sees a hand drop onto Chad's shoulder. A really nice looking hand, actually. 

Chad turns his head, but doesn't move his body other than to roll his eyes knowingly. "This one's mine, Jared. It's cool, I'm handling it." Clearly the guy with the nice hands isn't buying it, because the next second he's grabbing Chad by the scruff of his shirt and steering him towards the register at the far end of the store. 

This conveniently leaves Jensen alone to flee the premises and pretend this whole crazy idea never happened. He's about three feet from the door when he feels a tap on his shoulder. Jensen spins and finds himself face to face with six feet plus of toned, tanned testosterone.

Jensen watches as the guy drags a hand through the front of his hair, a nervous habit maybe, and then he's fixing Jensen with a megawatt smile and saying "Hi, I'm Jared. I'm real sorry about Chad, he's - he's new." This guy, Jared, is stunning - tall and gorgeous with legs for _miles_ \- and he's still talking to Jensen. Belatedly, he realises that Jared will probably be expecting a response from him sometime soon. _Focus, Ackles!_

"Uh, hi - I'm Jensen," he says, and the timing might not be exactly right, but it makes Jared smile, which Jensen counts as a major plus. Jared's looking at him expectantly and Jensen knows he should be paying more attention to the _words_ Jared's saying, but when a guy looks like Jared does, Jensen's pretty sure it's impossible for normal brain function. 

Jared laughs, soft and melodic as Jensen flounders for something to say. Eventually, Jared breaks the silence.

"Was there anything specific you're looking for?"

Jensen clears his throat and stares resolutely into Jared's eyes as he says, "I'm thinking of going camping somewhere. Not sure where yet, but maybe you can help me with that." Jared smiles again.

"Sure, I can help you." And it's as easy as that, because Jared _does_ help.

\+ + +

Forty minutes later, Jensen's learned everything he needs to know about camping gear, appropriate clothing, shoes, the whole lot. Problem is, he still hasn't figured out where he wants to go.

For some reason, Jensen doesn't want to tell Jared that this trip is research for his new book. It might sound lame to Jared, who obviously seems like the kind of person who hikes every weekend. Bottom line is, Jensen's doing this trip so that he can write that bestseller. 

It's not a flawless plan, far from it, but Jensen's more than willing to give it a shot. The mere thought of going home and trying to punch out another crappy manuscript is torturous, so this plan had better work. 

Jared grabs his attention again by laying his hand on Jensen's shoulder, just like Jeff had done in the bookstore but Jared's hands are different. Sure, they're bigger, but it's the way his fingers mould to Jensen's shoulder, long elegant digits that look more suited to handling weaponry instead of portable stoves. 

It takes a moment for Jensen to snap out of it, and he's more than a little ashamed that it's this easy to reduce him to a quivering mess. Mind you, the guy is smokin' hot. 

Jared's squeezing his shoulder again and Jensen meets his eyes. 

"Sorry, what were you saying?" He feels like an idiot the second those words leave his mouth.

Jared smiles again, that ridiculous, amazing smile and Jensen's pulse speeds up a little.

"The uh, the sleeping bag that you wanted, we're out of stock at the moment, but if you're happy to let us order in another one we can have it to you by next week." Jared's running a hand through his hair again and Jensen tracks the movement. 

"That's fine," Jensen says, "I'll do some more research and try to figure out where the hell I'm going. So, no rush on the sleeping bag."

Jared nods. "Awesome. Let me go ring that up for you."

Jensen's a little dizzy. He just spent forty minutes with Jared, forty minutes in which he was supposed to be choosing stuff to buy but instead wound up staring at the impressive lines of Jared's back through his tee shirt, the taut lines of his ass and those legs that go for miles. Jensen has to admit, it wasn't an altogether _successful_ mission, but a sleeping bag's a good place to start.

Lost in thought, Jensen eventually notices that Jared is waving him over to the register. _Be cool_ , Jensen thinks, _for the love of God, be cool_. 

At the counter, Jensen can't help but notice how Jared dwarfs the counter, how he has to bend almost in half to use the computer and that's... wow. Swallowing thickly, Jensen watches as Jared grabs a pen from the counter and twirls it between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. Okay, Jared is _totally_ messing with him. 

As if reading Jensen's mind, Jared looks up through his bangs at Jensen and pauses for a minute, twirling the pen around in his mouth. Jensen swallows again, runs a hand over the back of his neck and clears his throat. Man, he is so _easy_ for this guy.

After a moment, Jared asks for Jensen's details, but before Jensen can get excited he realises it's only for delivery purposes. _Easy tiger_. He gives Jared his address and enjoys the smile it brings to Jared's face when he tells him that he lives on Gabriola Island. There's a flash of something in Jared's eyes – it's gone before Jensen can really analyse it – and then Jared straightens up. 

Removing the pen from his mouth, Jared says, "Well, that's you all done. I'll make sure the delivery guys get it to you by Thursday, at the latest." 

“Thanks,” Jensen nods, giving Jared a broad smile as he heads for the door. It might be his imagination, but Jensen's pretty sure that Jared is watching him every step of the way.

\+ + +

“Dude, what's up with you?”

“Nothing,” Jared says, flicking a pen lid at Chad.

“C'mon man – 'fess up. You're no fun when you're pensive.”

“Look at you using big words like 'pensive' – one day you'll be a real boy,” Jared deadpans. 

“Fine, be a jerk. I'm gonna go help that hottie over there. Least I can do after you stole a customer from me.”

“Whatever,” Jared offers noncommittally. He stares unseeing out the REI glass doors, mind filled with thoughts of greenest eyes and skin dotted with freckles. 

The rest of the afternoon passes without incident, excluding various Chad-related shenanigans, and once the end of his shift rolls around Jared manages to forget almost entirely about Jensen. That is, until he remembers the smile Jensen gave him as he left the store, that bowlegged walk he had and the spark in his eyes. 

It’s not even a question of attraction – Jared has a girlfriend, a wonderful, sweet girlfriend – but he’s known for a long time now that guys appeal to him too. It’s a conversation he’s been meaning to have with Genevieve, but somehow the moment never seems right. Although, Jared thinks ruefully, there might never be a perfect moment to let your girlfriend know that you’re into guys too. Which brings him back to the whole Jensen thing – the guy is _gorgeous_ , Jared’s not ashamed to admit that (if only to himself) – but he can’t let it go any further than attraction, even if there is a seriously huge amount of it.

Resolutely, Jared puts all thought of Jensen out of his mind, focusing his efforts on being the best REI employee he can be. In fact, he’s so busy _not_ thinking about Jensen that he doesn’t notice Genevieve’s car pulling up outside.

Small hands snake their way around his waist and suddenly Genevieve is there, twining their hands together and pressing a feather light kiss into Jared’s neck. 

“Surprise,” she says, soft and warm into the shell of his ear, and Jared sucks in a breath before he relaxes into her hold. 

“You’re early,” Jared says, turning to press a kiss to her lips. Genevieve smiles into it and Jared can feel the stretch against his lips. Leaning down to kiss her again, Jared remembers the invite he extended to Chad. 

Breaking the kiss, Jared rests a hand on Genevieve’s face, stroking long fingers over her smooth cheek. “I invited Chad tonight – that okay?” 

Genevieve shoots him a knowing look, raising one eyebrow jauntily as she says, “Promise me one thing.” 

“Anything,” Jared says, a smirk tilting the corner of his mouth.

“Keep Chad away from the tequila. You know what he’s like when he –”

“Drinks like a fish?” Jared finishes. 

“You’d think he’d learn,” Genevieve says, shaking her head. “That stuff is like, his kryptonite. That is, if kryptonite made Superman super handsy and pathetic.”

Jared laughs, tossing his head back and just as Genevieve’s about to pull him down for another kiss, Chad belches loudly and thumps Jared on the shoulder.

“Lets get this thing _started_ ," Chad says, and Jared should be surprised by his best friends knack for interrupting private moments, but then, he’s kind of gotten used to it. Story of his life.

“Alright, dude. Let me finish locking up and we’re gone,” Jared says, pressing a kiss to the top of Genevieve’s head.

\+ + +

Never one to miss an opportunity, Jensen decides to see a movie while he's on the mainland.

That’s not to say there aren't movies to be seen on the island, but it's nice to sit in a crowded theatre and watch a movie without watching thirteen pairs of teenagers making out. Okay, maybe it was only three couples, but the lip smacking was _deafening_.

He decides to grab a bite for dinner before the movie because he really can't stand picking popcorn out of his teeth for the next few days, just – no. Sitting in his truck, Jensen susses out his options for dinner.

To his left is a friendly looking pizza joint, the dinner crowd's just starting to appear and Jensen hasn't had good pizza in _ages_. To his right is an Italian place – to be honest, Jensen's not the biggest fan of Italian - but anything's worth a try once. His only other option is the steakhouse across the street. It looks like a bit of a dive, but people are headed inside so it can't be that bad. 

Decision made, Jensen climbs out of the truck and heads for the steakhouse. It's about time he sunk his teeth into a bit of premium rib-eye.

As is turns out, almost everyone in town had the exact same idea as Jensen. 

There's a crowd at the bar already – almost half of the tables are full. As much as the throng of people grates on Jensen (he does live on an island for a _reason_ after all) he can’t deny that there's a great atmosphere to the place, a real sense of _home_ and Jensen can see why this place is so popular. He queues up behind a couple, debating whether or not to eat at the bar or at a table, when someone calls "Hey, Jared!" over the noise of the jukebox and the hum of voices.

Jensen turns around to find Jared right behind him, flanked by Chad and a pretty brunette with her hand in Jared's. Backpedalling furiously, Jensen's only thought is _oh God why did he have to choose this place again?_

Jared's changed out of his work clothes now, and even though Jensen knew his body had to be good under all that polyester, the clothes Jared wears now do nothing to hide the taut lines of his body. He stands tall and gorgeous in a pair of dark wash jeans, a black dress shirt and a smile teeming with dimples. Jensen feels suddenly ridiculous in his rugged coat and boots, but before he can speak Jared recognises him and smiles impossibly wider, which does funny things to Jensen's stomach. 

“Uh, hi,” is all Jensen manages, before Jared’s insisting that Jensen come sit with them.

Jensen is either too polite or too infatuated by Jared’s arms to refuse.

The queue moves forward suddenly, and Jensen tries not to react too much as Jared slings an arm over his shoulder and tells the seating hostess, "This one's with us, Janie." 

Before Jensen can get used to the warmth of Jared's arm around him, he's being steered towards a booth near the back of the restaurant. Janie smiles at them as they pass and Jensen kind of wants to stop and think for a second because there’s one thing wrong with this picture. 

Jared has a _girlfriend._

This makes things unnecessarily complicated. See, Jensen's pretty sure his Gaydar is top notch. Put it to the test and nine times out of ten, he'll be right on the money. But Jared, Jared's thrown him for a loop. Jensen's still trying to process all of this when Jared slides across the booth and in next to him. 

The brunette – Jensen realizes with a shock that he doesn't even know her name – seems unfazed as she takes her seat on the other side of Jared. Suddenly Jensen's painfully aware of everywhere Jared's body touches his - the hard line of Jared's leg against his, the broadness of his shoulders - this has to be some kind of trick or something.

Jared must catch Jensen's expression because the next second he's getting a thump on the back and Jared's huge hands are large and soothing on his shoulders. Chad looks at him then, and a flash of recognition crosses his face as he remembers Jensen. 

"You okay, man? You look kind of... seasick,” Chad says, lacking any kind of subtlety whatseoever. 

Jensen laughs it off and feels the comforting weight of Jared's hand slip away from his back, instantly missing the warmth. But those thoughts there, those are bad things to think because Jared isn't gay. Jared has a _girlfriend_ and she's sitting on the other side of him. It must be Jared's nature to be touchy feely like this because she doesn't seem to mind that fact that Jared had his hands all over Jensen a few minutes ago.

A moment later, a young, harried looking waitress appears and Jensen could kiss her for her awesome timing. She tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear and looks expectantly at them, soft brown eyes sliding from Jared to Jensen to Genevieve. Jensen only has a moment to panic because he hasn't even glanced at the menu yet, let alone _decided_ what to eat, but Jared comes to his rescue. He must know the owner or something, Jensen thinks, because all he says to the waitress is, "Uh, the usual, for everyone. And beer all round. Thanks!"

Chad whoops at this and Jensen marks a point in the 'Chad is a Douche bag' column.

\+ + +

"So, does everyone know everyone?" Jared says into the silence.

Jared glances around the table and suddenly Jensen feels like the third wheel. Or maybe the fifth wheel, although Chad isn't dating Jared or the pretty brunette, he thinks, so he's actually a co-third wheel with Chad, if that makes any kind of sense. Which it really doesn't. Jensen is obscenely glad he didn't say that out loud because sometimes his thought processes baffle even himself. 

Sensing Jensen’s hesitation, Jared goes around the table and introduces everyone. Jensen knows it's purely for his benefit, but he’s not ungrateful for the gesture. Jared leans into the pretty brunette and says "Genevieve, this is Jensen," and Jensen can see her bend awkwardly around Jared's large frame to wave, but with Jared sprawled out like he is, it's kind of impossible. 

Jared turns to look at Jensen and says, "Genevieve, this is Jensen. He came by the store today." 

Genevieve says “Hey Jensen, nice to meet you,” sweet and genuine as you please.  
Jared continues with the introductions, gesturing across the table to Chad and says, "This here’s Chad, he's my best friend. Don't judge him; he's real sensitive, deep down." Jensen suppresses a laugh (and fails) when Chad reaches across the table to try and slap Jared. 

Tension already easing, Jensen settles into the booth and tries not to enjoy the feel of Jared's knee against his. Or at least, not enjoy it _too much_.

Their meals arrive soon after and Jared must be in with the people that matter because boy was that _fast._ The beers are cold and the steaks (how Jared knew he wanted a steak, Jensen will never know) are cooked to perfection, tender and juicy and perfectly seasoned. Even Genevieve makes an appreciative noise when her steak arrives, and Jensen's gotta give her that, he appreciates a girl who can appreciate a good steak.

They're down to their third beers when Chad belches loudly and pats his stomach. 

"Dude," Jared says by way of acknowledgment, "Gross."

Jensen's feeling good. Like, _really_ good. He's pleasantly buzzed and Chad's douche levels seem to be directly proportionate to Jensen's alcohol consumption levels because Jensen can actually tolerate the guy once he’s downed a few. It's only when Genevieve puts two hands on Jared's face and pulls him in for a messy kiss that Jensen feels the taste in his mouth go sour.

Jared's hands are huge on her face and Jensen can see how much he puts into the kiss, how he plants another smaller kiss on her mouth after every big one, like a signature. Yeah, he totally needs to get out of here. _Now._ Problem is, there's no way he's getting out without interrupting them, and Jensen so doesn't want to be that guy. Maybe Chad can be that guy. 

Chad, however, clearly isn't as disturbed by their face sucking as much as he is bored by it. He's peeling the label off one of the beer bottles and for a moment Jensen feels the tiniest bit sorry for him. 

There's only one thing for it, Jensen has to get out of here or he'll do something he regrets. Like make out with an almost stranger who is definitely _not_ gay and who has a _girlfriend_ , for Christ's sake. 

Jensen clears his throat, hating that he has to be that guy after all, and makes up some excuse about needing to pee. Jared is totally polite about it as he scoots out of the booth, taking Genevieve with him. Jensen moves past them but stops when he feels a hand close around his wrist. 

"I gotta take a leak, too," Jared says, and the guy must be a lightweight because he's swaying slightly, but there’s a kind of adorable childishness to him that makes Jensen want to keep him in his pocket forever and ever. And okay, _where did that come from?_

Distractedly, Jensen realizes that Jared is rubbing his thumb up and down his wrist, small circular movements that should _not_ be affecting Jensen as much as they are. And yeah, this really isn't helping Jensen and his Gaydar dilemma. 

Jared leans on Jensen as they head for the mens room and Jensen would enjoy the solid weight of Jared against him, were it not for the fact that he kind of wants to do dirty things to him, and that's pretty much a no-no, given the whole girlfriend situation. 

If Jensen thinks hard enough about it, maybe Jared doesn't fit into categories like homosexual or heterosexual, maybe even bisexual. No, Jensen has it all figured out. Jared is a _peoplesexual_. No really, hear him out. In the short time since he's met Jared, he's seen how people are when they're around him - Jared oozes friendliness, makes people feel comfortable and Jensen's... kind of jealous. Dude must have some serious whammy going on. Either that or he really _is_ that charming. Jensen's man enough to admit that maybe it's the latter. 

They make it to the mens room and there's an awkward moment where Jensen tries to detach himself with as much dignity as possible. He watches Jared head for a cubicle before sliding into one himself. As it turns out, Jensen really does need to pee. 

He's doing up his zipper when Jared crowds into his stall and uses the length of his body to pin Jensen against the wall of the stall. 

Okay, Jensen can't be imagining this. Either Jared and Genevieve have an amazing deal going on, an open relationship or something (a _really_ open relationship) or Jensen's been right about Jared all along. The guy might not be gay, but the way his body is leaning against Jensen's - there's a good chance that Jared's bi. Which, okay, not the best time to figure all this out because hello, bodily pinned against a wall, but Jensen's never had the best timing when it comes to epiphanies. 

Jared's hands are gentle on Jensen, slowly mapping the contours of Jensen's chest and the alcohol must be wearing off because Jared's not looking him in the eyes anymore. 

There's a vulnerability in Jared's movements that Jensen knows all too well. It's realisation, stark and honest on Jared's face. His hands slide around Jensen's waist, slow and hesitant and Jensen knows he needs to stop this, knows this is wrong but how can it be when it feels so right to lean into Jared's hold, to press his face into Jared's neck and just breathe him in?

Jared makes a pained noise and pulls back. The look in his eyes is all the confirmation Jensen needs. 

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I can't do that to her, she deserves better." Jared's voice is jagged and hoarse from more than just alcohol, and Jensen wants more than anything to kiss him. Jared’s hands clench and unclench at his sides and Jensen _aches_. 

The moment gone, Jared leaves the stall a few seconds later and Jensen doesn't say a word, just lets him go because what else is he supposed to do? He just met the guy today and already he knows that he's in way over his head. Not to mention the hardness in his jeans. 

Jared is going to be the death of him.

Jensen doesn't say goodbye. He drops three bills on the table and heads straight for his truck, feeling guilty as hell, but what can he say? Hi Genevieve, your boyfriend and I almost made hot monkey love in a bathroom stall? No, Jensen's just going to have to tough this one out on his own. Sure adds to the whole 'suffer for your art' deal. Tortured artist, here he comes.

The queue for the ferry is longer than Jensen would like, but it's moving, so he can't really complain. It's late and the ferry's lights are bright against the darkness. Normally Jensen would welcome the sight, but instead he thumps his steering wheel in frustration and settles down for the long ride home.

\+ + +

Jensen resolutely doesn’t think about Jared for three days.

He considers that pretty impressive seeing as Jared seems to have some kind of supernatural ability when it comes to his sex drive, but when there’s work to be done, daydreaming is not what the doctor ordered. 

On the fourth day, Jensen gives in and thinks about Jared. 

He thinks about his tall, lean frame, the way it felt pressed up against his, the way Jared’s hands felt on his chest. It’s gotten to the point where it’s bordering on gay porn, all hours of the day. And as great as porn is, Jensen does have a job to do and porny daydreams aren’t really conducive to good writing. Although Jensen does sometimes wonder where the inspiration for harlequin romance novels comes from... Okay, he really needs to stop thinking about harlequin romance novels. And Jared.

He gets a call from Mike in the afternoon and he’s not surprised to hear tinny shouting from the other end of the line. His deadline is looming closer, but seeing as there’s been no real progress, aside from an almost-kiss in a steakhouse bathroom with a guy who may or may not be gay, Jensen really isn’t in the caring and sharing mood. 

That, and the fact that Jensen’s determined to keep Mike out of the loop as far as his lovelife is concerned. 

Fiddling absent mindedly with the phone still cradled in his hand, Jensen realizes that there's probably a word for what he is when he's around Jared. A pushover? Easy? 

But Jensen's not a pushover, dammit. He's spent his life politely turning down offers from women, beautiful girls who give him a confused look as he turns them down the nicest way he can. Jensen's into guys, always has been, but lately things have been quiet on the relationship front. He hasn't really dated anyone since Jeff, and look how that turned out. 

It's all Jared's fault. 

The way he leapt into Jensen's life, all smiles and tanned skin and seriously, how was Jensen supposed to _react_ to that? He's not used to being blindsided by tall people with stupidly pretty, floppy hair. Normally Jensen susses out potential guys first, gets a feel for what makes them tick and then approaches with caution. And he's been turned down before, plenty of times, but Jensen just took that as a sign that he misread the signals, or whatever. 

Jared's a completely different story. He lured Jensen in, tried to kiss him in a bathroom stall and then went back to his girlfriend. It's not like Jensen can be mad at the guy, he's trying to do the right thing, but Jensen is damn well allowed to feel cock-blocked. 

Jensen's wearing a hole in the carpet with all this pacing. He needs to just... forget about Jared. He's probably never going to see him again, so why bother wasting the brain power thinking about him? Jensen's brain strongly disagrees with this form of logic, and plants a few choice images in Jensen's mind which are of the NC-17 variety. 

He'll make a compromise. If he's going to have those kinds of thoughts about Jared, then he'll make the most of them. Maybe it's a little wrong, but the fact of the matter is, Jensen's muse must be in Majorca or something because he is so out of ideas it's not even funny. And Jared seems to be really, well, _inspiring._

\+ + +

The kettle boils, ringing loudly from the kitchen. Jensen's got work to do, so caffeine is a must.

He makes it black, just the way he likes it and carries the steaming mug into his bedroom. His desk is full of clutter, and Jensen could make some excuse about artists creating order out of chaos but the truth is, he's just been a little too busy to clean up. 

He levels the desk, sweeping all the loose papers into a cardboard box. There's some pages from his latest failed attempt mixed in there, but Jensen ignores them. He clears the desk of pens, books, everything, before running his hands over the wooden surface. He sneezes suddenly, dust swirling around him and decides that maybe he needs to hire a cleaning lady. 

Jensen idly wonders what Jared would look like in a maid's uniform, and oh God did his mind really just go there? _Yeah, it totally did_. 

Desk now dust free, Jensen sets up his laptop and places his coffee down on a coaster beside it. He still hasn't shaved, can't really be bothered at the moment, and he removes his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He's crazy for using Jared as inspiration; this is only going to make his infatuation ten times worse. Either that, or he'll be cured of Jared's wily charms forever. _Here's to hoping._

Cracking his knuckles, Jensen sinks into his chair, twisting from side to side before he takes a swig from his coffee. It's starting to get cold, but that always seems to happen. Jensen really needs to get working on the patent for a coaster stove so that he can reheat his coffee whenever he wants to. 

Fingers on the keyboard, Jensen opens a new page and watches the cursor blink for a few seconds. Using Jared? It's not the end of the world; he's just using what creativity he has to create an engaging and heartfelt piece of literature. 

Pfft, okay, what's he's doing is _totally_ different.

He's playing out his fantasy, trying to unravel the mystery of Jared because he won't have the chance to otherwise. Adjusting his glasses on his nose, Jensen brings Jared’s face into his mind and thinks, _this one's for you, Sasquatch._

\+ + +

Hours later, Jensen's fingers are still flying over the keys. He's written ten pages and it feels good, like it used to. Jensen thinks that he should feel a little disappointed that it took an almost kiss in a dirty bathroom stall to poke his muse into action, but there you go.

He's named one of the protagonists Damian, and to the casual observer he's just like any other of Jensen's characters - flawed, gritty, inescapably handsome - but to Jensen he's the most fascinating one yet. 

He paints a picture of Damian's life, recreating Damian's childhood memories and even though he's still at the outlining stage, Jensen feels like he's onto a winner.

More hours pass as Jensen's fingers skim the keyboard and even though the afternoon sun is fading, Jensen hasn't lost any enthusiasm. He's outlining the back story for his antagonist, having decided against using Chad for inspiration because, well, _because._ This is why Jensen nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears the doorbell ring.

There's no _way_ he's expecting a guest. 

Jensen adjusts his glasses and searches for a pair of pants - lest it be known that he works in his boxers - and tries to do something about his hair. 

It's useless, he hasn't showered since yesterday and he's wearing what's most likely his oldest, tattiest tee shirt. Jensen's frantic as he looks for something to pull on, but then the doorbell rings again and he decides, screw it. It's probably Mike anyway, busting his nuts about the novel again, or lack of one. 

He opens the door clad only in boxers and his ratty tee shirt, glasses askew on his nose, and finds Jared standing on his doorstep.

\+ + +

Jensen flushes as he feels Jared's eyes travel up and down his body, Jared's gaze lingering on his hair for a few seconds and now Jensen really wishes he'd had a shower. He drags a hand over the back of his neck, feels his cheeks burning and meets Jared's eyes.

Jared looks, wow. He's wearing his uniform, so nothing new there, but he's got a sprinkling of stubble on his chin which Jensen finds maddeningly hot. His eyes are alight in the late afternoon sun, a stunning hazel fusion and Jensen is so _screwed_. 

For a moment they just stand there, Jensen in the doorway and Jared on his doorstep, awkward tension filling the silence until Jared clears his throat and points towards a black truck parked in the driveway. 

"Is it alright if I park there? I just came to deliver- "

"The sleeping bag," Jensen finishes. 

That still doesn't answer Jensen's other question though, the one where's he's desperately trying to figure out why Jared is the one doing deliveries and not some overweight, surly guy named Bill. Or Chad even, although that would be an occupational health hazard waiting to happen.

Jared's scuffing his toe on the pavement and Jensen snaps out of his thoughts, suddenly blindingly aware of his current state of dress, or, more accurately, undress. He tries to half cover himself and watches Jared's lips curl up in an involuntary smile that Jared tries, and fails, to hide behind one massive hand. 

Suddenly Jensen remembers why he's supposed to be mad at Jared and fresh bitterness churns in his stomach. 

"So," Jensen says, "How's about we get this over with."

Jared drags a hand through his hair and says, to his shoes, "I would've called, but I figured you might not want to talk, so." 

Jensen feels a surge of guilt for that, for putting that crease in Jared's brow. He takes the proverbial sleeping bag/olive branch for what it is, and gestures Jared inside the house.

Once inside, Jared's eyes dart everywhere, taking in the small house and well, the mess that Jensen's been carefully avoiding for the past four days. Jared doesn't seem bothered by it as he takes it all in with one long sweep of his eyes. Jensen's dying to change into something decent, better yet have a shower, but his Momma always taught him to be a polite host, so personal hygiene will have to wait. 

Under his arm, Jared's got Jensen's brand new sleeping bag, just as blue and tiny as Jensen remembers it. Although dropping off the sleeping bag is a completely legitimate reason for Jared to visit, Jensen's not deluded enough to think that it was the _only_ reason Jared came this far.

\+ + +

"I like your place," Jared says, eyeing the view that spreads out beyond Jensen's porch.

It shouldn't be this awkward. Sure, they don't exactly know each other that well, and yeah, the whole non-making out incident is kind of a downer, but Jensen's good with strangers. He _has_ to be when Mike arranges book tours out of the blue and Jensen's met by hundreds of women, all queuing up to get his latest book signed. He really needs to get Mike back for that one. 

Point is, as awkward as this situation with Jared is, Jensen can make it work. They may never be BFFs, but they can at least get rid of the awkwardness. They _have_ to get rid of the awkwardness because it's bordering on unbearable.

Jared's eyes are still focused on the horizon and Jensen would be happy to spend the next lifetime watching Jared watching the view, but that might come off as a little weird. Jensen doesn't even want to think about what would happen if Jared read his notes on Damian. Which, he realizes with horror, are sitting there on his laptop screen, there for anyone's viewing pleasure. _Shit_.

Jensen clears his throat awkwardly and Jared turns to look at him.

"Oh, sorry, here you go," Jared says, handing him the sleeping bag. Jensen's hands ghost over Jared's as he takes it and Jensen tries not to let the heat show on his face. He’d forgotten about Jared’s fucking _massive_ hands. _Not now,_ Jensen begs his downstairs brain.

Desperate to break the mood, Jensen swallows and adjusts his glasses on his nose.

"Do I need to sign somewhere, delivery boy?" he quips, and immediately the tension in the room fizzles out. Jared tips his head back and _laughs_ , deep and gorgeous and Jensen is going to have to make a mental note to get Jared laughing more often. 

Jared's expression turns suddenly serious and he fixes Jensen with an expression that Jensen knows all too well – guilt. 

"Listen, Jensen, I want to apologise for - " Jensen cuts him off with a wave of his hand. 

Jensen can't let it go, can't just move on like he wants to, but if Jared wants to put it behind him, then Jensen won't be the one to deny him. He walks over to the fridge and emerges with a beer in hand, places it on the counter and gives Jared the best smile he can muster. 

"Take a load off," Jensen says, gesturing to the beer, "I'm gunna grab a shower - I'm pretty sure a dumpster smells better than me right about now."

It's an excuse, Jensen knows it is, and it's a poor one at that. But the fact is, he needs a moment to get his thoughts together. 

A smile dances on Jared's lips and he moves towards Jensen, takes the beer off the counter and meets Jensen's gaze. 

"Thanks, man," Jared says, and just like that, Jensen's right back where he started with the whole porny Jared daydreams. God, does he need some therapy. Or maybe a better porn collection, which… okay he needs to lock his bedroom door right the hell now. 

As he moves past Jared to his bedroom, Jensen catches a whiff of Jared's smell, the same one he almost drowned in the other night with his face pressed into Jared's neck, musky and earthy and unmistakably _Jared_. Jensen thinks that if he were a cat, that'd be some serious catnip Jared's got working. So now he's imagining himself as a cat. Yeah, Jensen's in _way_ over his head.

He steals a glance back at Jared before he closes his bedroom door, studying Jared's tall frame as he brings the beer to his lips. Closing the door a minute later, Jensen decides that he really needs a new hobby, because Jaredwatching has the slightly uncomfortable side effect of making him hard.

\+ + +

The shower takes almost six minutes to heat up, Jensen's used to this, but it irks him this time because he knows he's got someone waiting for him. He tries not to let his mind run away with that sentence, _someone waiting for him_ , but it's Jared. Restraint, what restraint?

Jensen steps under the spray and leans both hands against the tiles, ducking his head under the jet of water. It feels good, running down his back in warm waves of pressure, and it's not Jensen's fault that he's wound tighter than a pretzel, his life is stressful, dammit. Deadlines don't usually lead to hugs and puppies, so yeah, if Jensen's shoulders are a little knotted, who can blame him?

It shouldn't feel so right to curl his fist around his cock and imagine that his hand is Jared's mouth. It shouldn't, but it does, and Jensen bites back an embarrassing noise, jerking himself in long, slow pulls that drag out the sensation, agonising and perfect. He braces one hand against the wall and moves his other hand faster over his cock, imagines Jared solid and warm behind him, jacking him rough and raw as he pumps his cock in and out of Jensen's ass.

Jensen comes with a bitten off noise, the pleasure of orgasm tinged with sourness as the guilt starts to creep in. He cleans himself up and turns the water off, trying not to imagine Jared draping a towel over his shoulders and pulling him close against his chest, pressing a kiss to the join between Jensen's shoulder and neck. 

This is _bad_.

\+ + +

Jensen dresses quickly, throwing on a faded pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a clean shirt – nothing too fancy because this isn't a date or anything, sheesh. He runs a towel through his hair before threading his hands through the damp spikes – of course his hair has to be annoying when he actually _wants_ it to behave - and goes about cleaning up his bedroom.

His porn stash, as it turns out, is safely hidden in a shoebox at the bottom of his closet (that'll teach him to be paranoid) and before he leaves his room Jensen closes the lid on his laptop. His glasses are still in the bathroom where he left them, but as he reaches the sink and picks them up, Jensen makes a split second decision.

He hasn't worn his contacts in a while, and it takes him a few tries to get them sitting right, but once they're in, Jensen gives himself a precursory once over. Boxers, check. Pants, check. Shirt, check. Dignity, not so sure. (Okay, so he might be a little mortified that Jared saw him in such an unwashed state, and even more mortified that he just jerked off while thinking about him), but at least he doesn't smell like a toilet now. More like soap, which is a step in the right direction.

Jensen emerges from his bedroom and finds Jared looking intently at his CD collection. Jared turns when he hears Jensen approaching; a jibe about Jensen's music tastes halfway out of his mouth, when he fumbles.

"You have really strange taste in – uh, Hi." Jared's eyes are locked onto Jensen’s face – Jensen feels suddenly nervous as Jared's eyes travel over him. 

Jared has turned all the way around now, they're standing face to face and the heat in Jared's eyes makes Jensen want to jump him. Not exactly the sanest idea Jensen's ever had, but sanity doesn't seem to matter when he's got Jared staring at him like he's an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Jared coughs and casts his eyes to the floor, hand scratching nervously at the back of his neck and Jensen thinks he's going to explode with the amount of want surging up in him. How it's possible for a guy like Jared to look small and awkward is beyond Jensen, but somehow, Jared's doing it. 

Jensen reaches past him to grab a CD of the shelf, lingering in Jared's space a little before pulling back, Pink Floyd's 'The Wall' in his hand. Jared seems to have recovered, he's back to his smiling self and Jensen's never been happier to have bought a sleeping bag in his life. 

It's getting dark outside, the sun is starting to dip below the horizon and briefly, Jensen wonders if Jared is staying on the island for the night. Jared seems to notice the approaching darkness too, but before he can disappear on him again, Jensen bites the bullet.

"You hungry? I was just about to make something. You don't mind chili do you?"

Jared meets Jensen's eyes, something unreadable in his expression, but he answers without a pause, a smile tugging at his lips. 

"I love chili." 

So Jensen might have just asked Jared to stay for dinner, so what? Jared totally said yes.

\+ + +

Jared's empty beer bottle is sitting on the counter, and before Jensen can pick it up, Jared's there, scooping it up in one large hand.

"I didn't know where your bin was," Jared says, an embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. Jensen smiles back and points at the cupboard under the sink.

"Right there, under the sink," Jensen says as Jared moves past him. 

It feels strange, but at the same time, completely normal. Jensen's not really into that afterlife stuff, but the easy comfort he finds in Jared’s company is, there's no other word for it, cosmic. If Jensen wasn't damn sure he'd get the crap beaten out of him for saying this, he'd swear that he and Jared knew each other in a past life. 

Jensen smiles to himself at the idea.

“You seem happy,” Jared says, and Jensen feels a little bit stupid for letting his emotions show so easily on his face. _Way to be mysterious_ , he thinks. Pulling out a chopping board, Jensen feels how Jared hovers, practically _lingers_ in his personal space and Jensen’s not really sure why, but he’s not bothered by it.

“Can I help?” Jared asks, and Jensen wants to say no because Jared’s his guest, but then Jared smiles at him, that smile that brings dimples to his cheeks and a flush to Jensen’s skin. 

“Sure you can,” Jensen says, handing Jared a knife and an onion, “I’ll bet you’re a crier.”

\+ + +

An hour later, Jensen's kitchen is filled with the spicy aroma of chili. Pink Floyd's 'Wish You Were Here' echoes through the house and Jensen and Jared are two beers deep, singing along to the melody without a care in the world.

Jensen thinks this was the best idea he's ever had, asking Jared to stay for dinner. He's never felt so relaxed, so contented to just be himself around someone.

With a clink of metal on crockery, Jared scoops the last remnants of chili from his bowl and leans back in his chair, sated. Jensen brings his beer to his lips and smiles against the coolness of the bottle, watching as Jared sprawls out in the tiny chair. 

"Man, I love this song," Jared says, his voice slow and thick like molasses, and Jensen should really tease him about being such a lightweight, except for the fact that he thinks it's kind of adorable. 

Jensen likes this song too, it's one of his all time favourites. The slow, easy rhythm of the guitar is comforting somehow. 

He gets up and walks over to the CD player and turns it up, looking back at Jared who gives him a drunken thumbs-up and a giddy smile. Jensen shouldn't be having thoughts about kissing that smile off Jared's face, about taking Jared's face in his hands, running his fingers through Jared's stupid, pretty hair and burying himself in Jared's neck, but he totally is. And Jensen totally isn't jonesing for a slow dance, nu-uh. What the hell is Jared doing to him? _Must've stolen his masculinity along with his dignity, or something._

That's when Jared gets up from his chair and heads towards Jensen. At this point, Jensen doesn't give himself the chance to hope, but then Jared seems pretty unpredictable when he's drunk. Friendly, but unpredictable. 

The song's nearing the end but Jensen doesn't want to lose the moment, so he pushes the back button and the song starts over, familiar chords starting up again, soft at first, and then louder. 

Jared's only had two beers, but as he settles himself down on Jensen's couch he seems perfectly happy to play air guitar. Jensen laughs as Jared mock strums, and then the lyrics start and they're both singing along again. 

"Can you tell a green field, from a cold steel rail?" Jared sings, "A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell?" Jared continues, before launching into an enthusiastic air guitar solo. 

Jensen sings along, feeling a little ridiculous but not bothering to care because Jared's here and singing along and life is good. _Really_ good.

The song ends and Jared makes a sad face, pink lips forming a little pout and Jensen is struck by the urge to swipe his tongue across Jared's lower lip, sink his teeth into it and then soothe away the hurt with his tongue. He thinks of Jeff, of the nights they spent here together and tries not to draw the obvious comparison. Jared's a friend, an acquaintance really, and Jensen couldn't ask for more than that, even if he secretly wants to jump Jared's bones. (Maybe that's not such a secret, knowing Jensen's track record for letting Jared read his face like an open book.)

Jared's still looking at him and his face has that puppy dog expression going on, that face that's just begging for a kiss, but Jensen knows his limits. He might want to push the aforementioned limits, but he knows where they are. 

Jensen suddenly has a great idea. The song has faded into silence; the sound of the next track is already beginning but Jensen quickly turns it off, smiling at Jared's quizzical expression.

\+ + +

Jared's eyes follow Jensen as he disappears into his room and the heat of that gaze lingers on Jensen's shoulder. A few moments later Jensen meets Jared's gaze, emerging from his room with an acoustic guitar.

Jared stares appreciatively at the guitar in Jensen's hand and swings his gaze upto Jensen's face. 

"I didn't know you played," Jared says, and his voice is rougher, edgier somehow.

Jensen swallows down the lump in his throat and crosses the room to the couch, sinking down onto worn leather, fingers dancing across the nylon strings of the guitar. Jared's eyes seem to burn a hole through Jensen; he can feel Jared's heady gaze on him as he tunes the guitar. Truth be told, Jensen hasn't played in a while, he hasn't really had the time, but that seems like a poor excuse as his hands remember the feel of the guitar, ghosting over the strings.

Jensen swallows, takes a breath and strums a few chords, fingers relearning the positions and it's true what they say - just like riding a bike. He plays the opening chords of 'Wish You Were Here' and feels Jared move closer, eyes hot on Jensen's face.

Jensen's voice is shaky and a little rough as he sings the melody, but Jared doesn't seem to mind. His body is turned completely towards Jensen, eyes trained on him as he strums out the melody and quietly sings the lyrics.

"We're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year," he croons. "Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears, wish you were here." Jensen finishes the song with a few more chords, letting the last chords ring into silence and then turns to look at Jared for the first time since he started playing.

Jared's expression is unreadable, but if Jensen had to name it, he'd swear that he saw something like worship in Jared's eyes. Not, you know, Devil worship, or the worship of a servant to his master, just an honest, open respect in Jared's eyes. 

They've been staring for too long and Jensen clears his throat, fingers clenching and unclenching around the neck of the guitar. Jared seems to snap out of it, because he's leaning back, moving further away from Jensen and running a hand through his hair.

"You're - you're really good," Jared says, and Jensen feels the words swirl and settle in his stomach, suddenly nervous. 

"Thanks," Jensen replies, anything to fill the silence that's too heavy with thoughts, with the things that they're not saying to each other. 

"I've read your books, you know," Jared says, and Jensen laughs because the alternative is cringing awkwardly and trying not to think too hard on what Jared just said. _Jared has read his books_.

\+ + +

Jensen's scrambling for something to say in response - he doesn't want Jared to think he's not appreciative - but all he’s got right now is 'Sorry, _what?_ '

"They're really good," Jared says, and his face is totally, completely adorable as he nods, almost like he thinks Jensen won't believe him. Which, yeah, Jensen's a little insecure about his work, that's not hard to see, but the fact that Jared's reassuring him is ten kinds of awesome.

Jensen smiles and shrugs off his awkwardness. He's never been that good with praise, never sought it out and never expected it, but that doesn't make hearing it any less nice. 

"They're nothing special," he tells Jared, scratching at the back of his neck.

"I like that Kyle guy, in 'Guardian Angel'," Jared adds, "he's cool."

Jensen has to gulp a little at that because Kyle is a carbon copy of Jeff. And maybe it's not exactly kosher that Jensen's using real people as inspiration for his protagonists, but what's better for inspiration than life? 

Jensen leans around the guitar in his lap and tries not to give away any of his thoughts. It's not like he and Jared are dating or anything, so why does Jensen feel the need to keep quiet about his ex? 

Over on the other side of the couch, Jared's gone quiet and Jensen wants to apologise or say something funny to break the tension, but all he can do is stare at his hands. 

Jared lets a rush of air out of his lungs, almost as if he'd been holding it in for some reason. 

"I gotta take a leak," Jensen blurts, and even as the words come out he wishes he could take them back. They're the same words he used the other night and Jensen doesn't want to ruin the fun they've had, doesn't want to taint the memory of this night. Jared tenses a little and Jensen knows he's thinking the same thing, but the smile Jared offers him a second later is genuine, even if it is tinged with a little sadness.

Just as Jensen's about to get up, Jared reaches for the guitar, eyes questioning.

"Can I?" he says, and Jensen nods, puts the guitar in Jared's lap and shows him the fingering for a G chord. Jensen walks around to the back of the couch, leaning in to put Jared's fingers on the right strings and he'd laugh at the cliché but it feels really good to be this close to Jared. Really, _really_ good.

When Jared strums the chords and gets a relatively clean G chord, Jensen smiles proudly and heads for the bathroom.

\+ + +

Jensen takes longer than normal in the bathroom, choosing to linger after washing his hands to listen to the off key notes Jared's playing. Smiling, Jensen realizes that it's been so long since he's shared the house with someone, since he's had someone to share an evening with – he's missed that companionship more than he knew.

When he emerges from the bathroom, Jared's not sitting on the couch anymore. For a second Jensen panics, _you drove him away, didn't you? Just like Jeff_. Bitterness curls in his stomach, sour and churning, and he's just about to start a major sulk fest when Jared swings into view. 

"I should go," Jared says, avoiding Jensen's gaze, "It's late and I've got work tomorrow, and - " _I should leave before something happens_ , Jared doesn't say. 

Jensen tries not to look crestfallen. 

Jared's leaving, he had to in the end, but it still comes as a shock. Jensen would feel worse, were it not for the fact that he knows the ferry schedule back to front, and seeing as it's after eleven, Jared's just missed the last one.

He shouldn't be happy about it, but Jensen is really happy about it. The problem is breaking the news to Jared in a way that doesn't give him a hint as to just _how_ happy Jensen is. Biting the bullet, Jensen lowers his head and resolutely stares at his hands.

"The last ferry's already gone, Jared."

Jared's eyes seem to widen almost comically, and Jensen would laugh except he feels like he's keeping Jared prisoner or something. He's not, really he's not. They just had a fun night and he forgot to keep track of the time and now Jared's stuck on the island for the night. That's not to say he has to stay with Jensen, though. There's always the local B'n'B, which Jensen has to admit is pretty charming, and there's a hotel about half an hours drive from Jensen's place. 

Jensen has to lay it all on the line, be honest with Jared, even if he does want him to stay.

Jared, meanwhile, has been silent all this time, seemingly processing everything and Jensen lets a burst of air out of his lungs he didn't realise he'd been holding.

"There's a B'n'B around the corner from here, or I could drop you off at a hotel," Jensen offers. He stops at the look on Jared's face – it’s pure, unfiltered hurt. 

And okay, maybe Jensen's got this all wrong. Maybe Jared wants to stay. Come to think of it, Jared's been here all afternoon and no-one's called him. Surely, REI would be ringing if one of their employees went off to deliver something and never came back? 

Of course, the more pressing matter is the fact that Jared's girlfriend probably has no idea where her boyfriend is. If Jensen was in Genevieve's position, he'd be pretty pissed right now.

Jared's looking at him like he's trying to determine something from Jensen's expression. Jensen looks away and says quietly, "Or you could stay here, if you want."

The offer hangs in the air between them and Jensen kind of wants to take it back, wants Jared to stop looking at him like he's crazy and holding him prisoner or something. It might be Jensen's paranoia getting the better of him, but Jared doesn't look too pleased with the idea.

Jensen's just about to take it all back when Jared's expression falls from his face, a smile forming on his lips. 

"You want me to stay?" 

He could deny it, make it sound more casual. It's not like he didn't give Jared other options, but the look Jared's giving him is definitively, a question. Jensen hopes he can give Jared the right answer.

"I, yeah. If you want to," Jensen mumbles, "You'll be on the couch though, hope that's okay. It’s comfy, I promise." 

"I've had worse," Jared teases. 

It's kind of making Jensen's head spin, all this tension between them. One second they're getting along like a house on fire, the next they're avoiding each other's gazes and trying not to acknowledge the shiny, pink elephant hovering in the room. It's exhausting, but Jensen wouldn't trade it for the world.

\+ + +

He leaves Jared alone in the living room while he grabs blankets and an extra pillow, and Jensen is trying hard not to feel giddy about the prospect of Jared sleeping on his couch. He's like a friggin' teenage girl, hyped up because her best friend is sleeping over and they'll be able to braid each other's hair and tell scary stories under the blanket. Jensen's brain needs to just, shut up for a while. Maybe it's all the coffee he drinks - is five cups a day too many?

Jared surprises him by meeting him at the door to his bedroom, and Jensen would panic except that he's too distracted by Jared's chest. He's taken off his work shirt and the only thing left is a threadbare cotton tee that clings in all the right places. 

"Can I use the bathroom?" Jared asks, totally unaware of the affect he's having on Jensen. Wordlessly, Jensen points over his shoulder towards the one tiny bathroom in the entire house. To be fair, it's never really been an issue before now because Jensen's only needed the one bathroom, and the last person he shared it with was Jeff. He doesn't think about it, doesn't dwell on the past because Jared's smiling at him and his stomach is doing that weird flip-flop thing. 

Jensen busies himself by dropping Jared's blankets and pillows onto the couch - he doesn’t make up the bed because maybe that's a line he shouldn't cross – but he swipes at the non-existent dust on the sofa cushions anyway. 

A few minutes later Jared emerges from the bathroom, arms above his head as he yawns and Jensen's eyes instantly fall to the patch of skin revealed, to the taut line of Jared's hips above his jeans and right on cue, the porny thoughts return. _Perfect_. 

There's another awkward moment as Jensen says goodnight, hand outstretched like he wants to shake Jared's hand, which is like the most random thing Jensen could have possibly done, so Jensen pulls his hand back but Jared's already trying to shake it so they end up doing this weird, non-handshake thing before Jared tips his head back and _laughs_.

Jensen joins him a second later and decides that Jared is a good influence on him. It’s time to stop taking himself so seriously. He's just about to say goodnight again when Jared drops a hand to his shoulder, gentle pressure as he squeezes. 

"'Night, Jensen," Jared says, "see you tomorrow." It comes out laced with giggles, and Jensen kind of wants to lick Jared's nose as payback.

"See you tomorrow, Sasquatch," Jensen shoots back. And maybe it's too early to be giving Jared a nickname, but Jared doesn't seem to mind. Instead, Jared lifts his hand from Jensen's shoulder and tries to ruffle Jensen's hair - Jensen ducks out of the way just in time. 

The second he's alone in his bedroom, Jensen takes a moment to process everything. Jared is staying the night. Jared is sleeping on his couch and even though he's not expecting anything more from this, Jensen can't help but feel like someone out there likes him.

\+ + +

Jensen’s awake at six the next morning, life of a writer and all that, but as he gets up to make himself a coffee and notices the mop of unruly brown hair on his sofa, there's no denying that it's a shock to his system. Jared’s _here_. How could he forget that?

Jensen takes a moment to study Jared’s frame, folded awkwardly onto his couch. It looks pretty darn painful, and Jensen hopes Jared stretched properly before he fell asleep. He’s going to have one hell of a neck ache. 

It sounds wrong, but Jensen finds himself watching Jared as he sleeps. There’s a softness to him that’s gone when Jared’s awake, a vulnerability that makes Jensen weirdly protective. 

Jensen drags his laptop into the kitchen and ends up getting a good amount of work done while Jared sleeps. A few times, Jared snuffles in his sleep and Jensen has to giggle to himself because for all of Jared's manliness, he's pretty much a girl once he's asleep. 

The sun's just starting to rise and Jared stirs, flinging an arm over the couch as he squints at the light. Jensen smiles, annoyingly chipper for once, and Jared pushes himself upright with a grunt. (Turns out Jensen was totally right about Jared's neck – he does feel sort of guilty, it being his couch and all.) Jared's tilting his head from side to side and Jensen wants so badly to go over there and help him stretch it out, but Jensen made a promise while Jared was asleep.

He's going to keep his hands off Jared, because Jared is out of bounds for Jensen. He has a girlfriend, Jensen keeps reminding himself. The porny thoughts however, they're _harmless_.

It's quiet for a moment, that eerie feeling before being truly awake. Jared's sleepiness wears off with the sudden realisation that he's still in Jensen's house. On an island. 

Jensen can't keep up as Jared starts blurting out something to do with REI and that his shift starts in forty five minutes. Jensen knows something's wrong when Jared's flinging the covers off the couch and hunting under the cushions for his phone. Jensen watches as Jared squints at the tiny screen, feeling more than a little bit guilty as Jared’s facial expression progresses from dread to full on panic mode. 

"Shit," Jared says, and Jensen feels like maybe it was his job to wake Jared up, but he didn't want to disturb him from such a deep sleep. Truth be told, Jensen just enjoyed having Jared there. It's not like he asked Jensen to wake him up or anything, or did he? Jensen panics for a moment.

“My phone,” Jared says, “the battery must have died. The alarm never went off.”

Jensen hunches in his chair, tries to hide the guilt. Jared doesn't seem mad though, doesn't get pissed at Jensen for letting him sleep, which is pretty amazing, really. Jensen watches, fascinated as Jared searches for his work shirt, unreservedly staring as Jared pulls it over his head and runs a hand through his hair. 

Jensen thinks he has a new favourite hobby - watching Jared panic. That face is priceless. Not to sound insensitive or anything. 

"Do you want me to give you a lift to the dock?" Jensen asks, and hopes it comes out more casual than it sounds. Jared meets his gaze head on and shakes his head. Jensen has a moment to feel dejected, and then Jared says "Come with me." 

It sounds like a promise, like an invitation to be a part of Jared's life and not just two strangers trying to find a rhythm together. Jensen tries to hide the smile that forms on his face, tries to act all nonchalant, but the answer he gives Jared is anything but.

" _Yeah_ , Jared. Yeah." 

Jensen downs the last of his coffee, cold as usual, and heads to his room to get dressed. Absent mindedly, Jensen thinks he should shave – he's starting to lose that comely hobo look and is steadily progressing towards scary homeless guy. Jensen's reaching for the container that holds his contacts when Jared comes rushing into the bathroom. 

"Got any mouthwash?" Jared asks, a sly grin on his face.

Jensen has a second to feel affronted at having someone else crowding into his tiny bathroom, but he shrugs it off almost instantly – this is _Jared_ after all - and points to the cupboard under the sink.

"There," Jensen says, and before Jared looks for the mouthwash, his eyes land on one of Jensen's contacts, currently balanced on a fingertip. 

"I like you in your glasses," Jared says, and suddenly Jensen feels like he could die happy, just from that comment. He blushes a little and puts the contact back in its container. Jared smiles at him despite the mouthful of mouthwash he's gargling and Jensen flushes deeper.

\+ + +

They're on the road ten minutes later and Jensen is trying desperately not to memorize every detail of Jared's truck.

The interior smells like Jared, it's intoxicating and Jensen feels completely surrounded by it. Jared looks over to him as they turn a corner, small smile on his lips and Jensen's struck by a fierce need to press his face into Jared's neck, to feel Jared's stubble against his lips, his tongue.

They pull up to the dock, and like some cheesy romantic comedy, Ted spots Jensen in the passenger seat and gives him a suggestive wink, followed closely by an enthusiastic thumbs up. Jensen waves back, can't bring himself to be rude, but the flush on his cheeks is really starting to get annoying.

Jared turns on the radio once they board the ferry, humming along to a poppy ballad, easy as you please. Jensen's starting to have thoughts. Jared spent the night, and now Jensen's not going to be able to look Genevieve in the eye the next time they meet. It's not like they slept together or anything, so why should he feel that way?

"Hey, Jensen?" Jared turns the dial on the radio and the music subsides into a low hum. Jensen knows what's coming. This is where Jared's going to tell him last night meant nothing, he's not going to do that anymore and maybe they should spent some time apart.

"Yeah?" Jensen says, and waits for the inevitable.

"I want you to know," there's silence as Jared draws in a breath and Jensen prepares himself for the blow, "I had a really great time last night."

It's more than Jensen could have asked for. He doesn't know where he stands with Jared, it's frustrating as hell but he can't help that he wants to be near him. Jensen's the first to admit it when he has a serious case of the hots for someone, and Jared takes the cake when it comes to hot.

"Me too," Jensen says.

It's an understatement, there's so much more to it than that, but Jared's looking out the front windscreen, his eyes cast straight ahead like it's painful to look at Jensen. 

Thing is, Jensen knows exactly what he means.

Last night was like a vacation, spending a night with someone different, somewhere different, no expectations or anything. The ferry ride feels like the end of that vacation, like they have to go back to their lives now, deal with work and girlfriends and serious life stuff. 

Jared's Adam's apple bobs up and down and Jensen tracks the movement, swallows through the lump in his throat. 

A moment later he gasps as he feels Jared's hand slide into his, warm fingers twining though his own. Jared pulls Jensen's hand to his face, brings their fingers to his lips and Jensen thinks he must be dreaming because Jared's pressing his lips against the back of his hand.

There’s nothing left to say. 

Jensen feels the weight of everything settle heavily in his chest. Jared wants this, wants him. The feeling is heady and overwhelming and when Jared has to pull his hand away to steer them off the ferry, Jensen tries not to ache at the loss of contact.

\+ + +

The streets are busy with rush hour traffic and Jared’s already twenty minutes late for his shift but none of that seems to matter.

They pull into the REI employee parking lot and Jensen tries not to let the weight of everything pull him under. Jared gets out of the car first but Jensen stays inside, doesn’t want to leave the cocoon of whatever this is, doesn’t want to come back to reality. 

Vaguely, Jensen is aware of Jared coming around to his side of the truck. He stares resolutely out the windscreen and thinks of something to say, anything to fill the silence. Jared opens his door a moment later and the bite of cold morning air is shocking, but it’s nothing compared to the way Jared leans in and presses a kiss to Jensen’s mouth, hands moving up to frame Jensen’s face. 

Jared groans into the kiss and Jensen turns in his seat, makes space for Jared in between his legs as he lets loose a needy noise against Jared’s mouth. Jensen reluctantly ends the kiss, pushing his face into Jared’s neck and swallowing down the lump in his throat. 

It's the middle of the morning, there are people walking past them but everything pales in significance. Jensen's world is narrowed to the slow push of Jared's lips against his forehead, the warmth of Jared's palms as he rests them on Jensen's knees. It's dizzying and Jensen wouldn't change it for the world. Jared's hands move to cup his face again, fingers gently scratching Jensen's beard and Jared laughs, soft and bright against Jensen's chin. It's in that moment when Jensen makes a decision. 

There are people who spend their entire lives searching for this, who walk through life never knowing if they'll find that one person who completes them. Jensen's found that person, and it sound stupidly romantic, hell he's only known Jared for two days but even that's enough. Somehow it's enough.

Jared is staring down at his boots and Jensen searches for his eyes, puts a finger under Jared's chin and gently lifts Jared's head. There's something in Jared's expression, fear or hurt, Jensen can't figure it out. 

"You're really late for work," Jensen says, cold winter air misting his voice, "that's my fault."

Jared pulls him in for another kiss, his large hand cupping the back of Jensen's head and just _holding him there_. It's feels like a goodbye and Jensen pulls back because that's not how this is going to end. Not now, not when they've just started. 

"Don't, Jared," Jensen pleads, "don't you do that." 

Jared's answer is to bury his face in Jensen's neck. "I can't do this to her, Jensen." The words are so soft that Jensen nearly misses them. "We're - we're engaged, Jensen."

And there's nothing Jensen can say to that. There's no way he can justify what they're doing. 

The air is colder somehow, sharper around Jensen and he needs to get the hell out of here. Jared's searching his eyes, pleading with Jensen to understand but Jensen's been here before, he knows what regret feels like and he can't do it again. Jared's still filling the v between Jensen's legs, his hands are reaching for Jensen's face but Jensen can't look at him, can't meet those eyes because he's only human and he's so helpless for this hopeless, beautiful man. 

“Let me give you a ride home, Jensen,” Jared begs, “ _Please_ , let me take you home.”

Jensen feels like an idiot as he disentangles himself from Jared's legs and pushes past him into the cold morning. Jared follows him, tries to get him to stay but Jensen won't do it. He pulls his jacket tighter around himself and heads off in the general direction of a bus stop.

\+ + +

It takes Jensen about half an hour to reach a bus stop, mainly because his mind is a wreck but also because it's a big damn city and there are too many bus lines for Jensen's tastes.

Jared stops following after three blocks, when Jensen stops listening to him, and when people start staring. Story of Jensen's life, it seems. There's always someone out there who wants to give him a test drive, but they never buy the car. Jensen really needs to stop making lousy metaphors, it's putting his profession to shame. 

He sits next to an old lady at the bus stop who stares at his beard for a minute straight before scooting further across the bench. _Great, now he's frightening the elderly_. Jensen's hands are freezing, he buries them in his pockets and wishes he'd worn a different coat. 

The bus arrives ten minutes late, don't even get Jensen started, and the bus driver is unusually surly as he asks Jensen for a ticket. Jensen takes a small amount of joy in that, pleased that he's not the only one who wants to punch someone's lights out. 

It's quiet on the way to the docks and Jensen wishes he had music or chatter to fill the empty void in his mind. His thoughts run on a constant loop, Jared's face as he played guitar, watching him sleep, the kiss, the fallout. It all feels like a really bad episode of a soap opera and Jensen's either going to write about it, or drink until he forgets it. 

The old lady gives Jensen a disapproving look as she passes him and holds her shopping closer to her body as she steps off the bus. Jensen ignores her. Staring resolutely at the pattern on the seat in front of him, Jensen can’t help but think about the feel of Jared's lips against his own.

\+ + +

The house is cold and uninviting when Jensen unlocks the door and evidence of last night is everywhere. The blanket from Jared's bed is piled next to the sofa and Jensen's guitar leans against the wall, varnished wood glinting in the darkness.

Jensen flicks the light on, dumps his keys on the counter and heads straight for the shower.

He emerges a few minutes later and decides that it's time for the beard to go. The buzz of the trimmer is loud in Jensen ears, echoing in the tiny bathroom. After, Jensen runs a palm over his handiwork, feels the scratch of stubble under his fingers and tries not to think of Jared. 

The house is a mess, and Jensen's a little ashamed, really. He spends the afternoon cleaning up, and when it comes time to pack up Jared's bed, Jensen's ready for it. 

He reheats some chilli for lunch and ends up throwing most of it away, suddenly too salty for his liking.

Later, Jensen decides to make the most of this funk he's in. He sits down in front of his laptop and writes down every dirty word he can think of. When the list gets to fifty, he realises that every one of them doesn't apply to Jared. 

Mike rings later that night, by which time Jensen is cozying up to a bottle of Jack Daniels. He's well on the way to a hangover, but Mike doesn't seem to realise or care, because when Jensen hangs up on him soon after he's still babbling away. 

Jensen falls asleep face first into his pillow, still wearing his glasses.

\+ + +

Next morning, the hangover Jensen wakes up with is easily one of the top five worst hangovers Jensen's ever had. Maybe even top two.

His glasses are somehow still perched on his nose and Jensen puts them on the nightstand before burying his face in the pillow again. He's pretty sure he hung up on Mike last night, but that might have been a dream. He hopes it was a dream because Mike really doesn't like to be hung up on. 

The thought of breakfast has Jensen hugging the toilet, but like all good hangover remedies, it's all about taking it like a man and doing what you gotta do. Which, for Jensen, means eating a decent breakfast and chugging down some serious amounts of water.

By noon Jensen's feeling better, at least the room doesn't swirl whenever he stands up anymore. He heads into the bathroom for a shower, desperate to wash the smell of alcohol of him, lest he honour his hobo roots by smelling like a homeless person too. 

Showered and smelling defiantly unlike a homeless person, Jensen makes a beeline for his laptop.

He's going to use this pain, shape it into the best book he's ever written. How stupid was he to think that planning some crazy trip would inspire him, when all he needed was this ache in his chest to make the words flow. Tortured artist, always a winner.

It's early evening and Jensen's looking at thirteen pages of his newest book. Damian is the protagonist again, but Jensen's given him an edge. See, Damian isn't what he appears to be. On the outside he's this bouncing ball of energy, everybody's best mate, but on the inside, he's a guy who's struggling with his sexuality. 

After a coffee and some serious thinking, Jensen scraps all thirteen pages.

\+ + +

Time passes slowly.

Jensen writes, Mike harangues him and Jensen writes some more. It's been almost four months since Jensen saw Jared and for the first time, Jensen feels like he's getting somewhere with his life. His newest book is shaping up to be a good one, the words come thick and fast, just like it used to be when Jensen was fresh out of college and bursting with ideas. 

So naturally, this is the time when Jared decides to re-enter his life.

Jensen's in a bar, nursing a beer and chatting away to the bartender when he feels someone come up behind him. For a second he allows himself to hope it's Jared, just so he can prove to himself how completely and utterly over Jared he really is. 

That confidence shatters when he spins on the barstool and comes face to face with Jared. 

They don't talk. Jensen picks absent mindedly at the label on his beer and Jared sinks his hands into his jeans pockets, staring down at his shoes. 

In the end, Jensen breaks the silence.

“So, long time, huh?” It shouldn't be this hard, it's been months and somehow the hurt is still there, still filed away under 'unbearable' in the crazy filing room that is Jensen's brain. 

Jared nods. “You look good, man,” and it sounds genuine to Jensen's ears.

\+ + +

They end up in the alley outside the bar like the worst of cliches. Jensen's got a fist in Jared's shirt as he backs him against the wall, satisfied with the way Jared's letting himself get manhandled.

Jared is pliant under Jensen’s hands, warm and willing and Jensen pushes his face into Jared’s neck, sinks his teeth into Jared’s shoulder and bites. Jared hisses against him, sharp intake of breath and Jensen wants.

Into the warmth of Jared’s neck Jensen says, “What are you doing here?” He punctuates the sentence by sucking a ring of blood to the surface of Jared’s skin. 

Clutching at Jensen’s shoulders, Jared trembles and pulls Jensen tighter against his chest, closes the space between them so they’re joined from head to toe. 

“I _want_ you,” Jared says, rubbing his lips against the stubble on Jensen’s chin, “always wanted you.”

The slide of Jared’s lips against his cheek is maddening; Jensen’s dizzy with it, his hands still buried in Jared’s shirt, pinned between them both. He brings their lips together, slides his tongue into Jared’s mouth and tastes beer and something entirely Jared. It’s wet and dirty and so good Jensen thinks he might die. Which would be an awesome way to go, Jensen thinks. Death by face sucking, not too shabby.

Jared pulls away with a wet sound, chest heaving and Jensen’s pretty sure he must look like that too, flushed in the cold air, his hair a mess from Jared's hands, his lips spit shiny and red. Jared’s beautiful. There’s no other way to say it, the colour on his cheeks makes him look bright and alive. 

“Come home with me,” Jared says, trailing a thumb over the pillow of Jensen’s lower lip. 

Jensen wants to ask about Genevieve, wants to slow down and think about everything but his mind seems to take a backseat when it comes to Jared. He’s half hard already and his body is saying go with him, do it. _You know you want to._

“What about Genevieve?” Jensen asks in a small voice. 

Fleetingly, Jensen dares to hope that Jared will lie to him, tell him that he doesn’t love her. It’s selfish and wrong and he should feel like crap for thinking it, but he’s so wrapped up in this thing, whatever it is between them to care.

“I told her that I might be having second thoughts,” Jared says, and Jensen’s heart pounds painfully in his chest. The beginnings of hope start to bloom but Jensen doesn’t smile, doesn’t let it show. Can't, because if Jared takes this away from him he's a goner.

Jared breaks the tension by pulling Jensen close again, lining up their bodies and God, Jared’s hard. Jensen can feel the solid length of him against his stomach and they need to get out of here, right now. 

They make their way to Jared’s truck, parked a few blocks away, and Jensen tries not to feel like the other lover in the equation, tries not to think about Jared telling Genevieve that he needed a break, that he was having doubts.

\+ + +

The inside of Jared’s truck is freezing, Jensen rubs his hands together and buries them in his pockets.

Jared opens the driver’s door a second later and Jensen watches as he slides in behind the wheel and starts the engine. Jared throws an arm over the back of Jensen’s seat as he reverses and Jensen feels like an idiot as he leans into the gesture, tries to ignore the stiffness in his jeans as Jared’s hand comes to rest on his neck, fingers skimming through the short hair on the back of Jensen’s nape. 

They’re silent on the way to Jared’s house, but it’s a heavy silence, laced with anticipation and want. Jensen keeps sneaking glances at Jared, taking in the profile of Jared’s neck in stark relief as they pass streetlights in the darkness.

\+ + +

Gravel crunches under the tires as Jared pulls up to the house, kills the engine and twists the keys from the ignition. Jensen’s itching to get inside and get his hands on Jared, feel that tan skin under his tongue, his fingers, his lips.

Jared’s breathing is loud inside the cabin of the truck, short and shallow and then he’s looking straight at Jensen, heat in his eyes and why the hell are they still in the goddamn truck? 

They stumble towards the front door and Jared fumbles with the key, too turned on to manage the simple slide of the key into the lock. Jensen’s not helping matters, he’s crowing Jared from behind, a heavy, solid weight against Jared’s back. 

Finally, _finally_ Jensen hears the snick-twist as Jared unlocks the door. 

Now it’s Jared’s turn to manhandle Jensen. He pulls Jensen over the threshold, swings the front door closed and then slams Jensen up against it. The breath 'oof’s' out of Jensen’s lungs and then Jared’s pushing his tongue into Jensen’s mouth, no preamble, just slick wet pressure as he maps the inside of Jensen’s mouth. 

When he pulls back to catch his breath, Jared’s lips are red and shiny as he says, “Your lips, Jensen, your fucking _lips_ ,” and then he’s sucking on Jensen’s tongue again, running it along Jensen’s bottom lip with hungry, desperate swipes. 

The wall is hard against Jensen’s back but it’s nothing compared to the feel of Jared’s cock, hardness under denim where it presses against his stomach. He pushes at the shoulders of Jared’s jacket, keeps licking into Jared’s mouth as the jacket drops to the floor, fabric landing in a soft pile around their feet. Next to go is Jared’s shirt, Jensen has to break the kiss as he slides the fabric up Jared’s torso, and he leans in to bite one of Jared’s nipples as Jared gets the shirt over his head. 

Jared makes a wounded noise, body arching against Jensen and then he’s pulling at Jensen’s coat, sliding it down Jensen’s shoulders with massive, desperate hands. Jensen pulls off his shirt as well, leans into Jared again and sinks his hands into Jared’s hair, uses it to pull Jared down to kiss him. 

They’re rutting up against each other, desperate for more friction and Jensen’s scrabbling at Jared’s fly, trying to get his fingers to work. Jared helps, undoing the button and the sound of the zipper opening feels like now, now, now. 

Before Jared can react, Jensen pushes him against the opposite wall and takes Jared into his mouth. Jared’s hands fly to Jensen’s hair, fingers clenching and releasing against Jared’s scalp, tiny helpless movements that go straight to Jensen’s cock. 

Jared’s making these broken, helpless noises as Jensen takes Jared deeper, sucks at the head and pulls off with a wet pop. Jensen feels Jared’s eyes on him, looks up to meet that heady gaze and flushes at the want he sees in Jared’s eyes. 

Suddenly Jared’s hauling him up and crushing his mouth to Jensen’s, licking the taste of himself out of Jensen’s mouth. Jared spins Jensen in his arms, pulls Jensen flush against him, back to chest and drops his hands to Jensen’s hips. 

The hard line of Jared’s cock presses against Jensen’s back, damp and sticky with spit and precome. Jensen hisses and lets his head fall back onto Jared’s shoulder as Jared cups him through his jeans. 

Jared’s undoing Jensen’s fly and the angle is just as is if he were doing it to himself. 

Newly freed, Jensen’s cock bobs against his stomach, precome leaking down the shaft as Jensen shimmies the denim down his legs and kicks off his shoes. They’re skin to skin and Jensen can’t deny that he’s been waiting for this, God he’s been waiting so damn long for this. 

Jared marches them towards the bedroom, still pressed up against Jensen’s back, hands digging and releasing on Jensen’s hips. The head of Jared’s cock slides in between the crack of Jensen’s ass and they both groan. 

As Jared’s leads them to the bed, Jensen reaches a hand behind him and turns his head to pull Jared into a kiss, wet and hungry. Jared moans into Jensen’s mouth and slips a finger down Jensen’s spine, pushes at the entrance to Jensen’s hole. 

“ _Need you_ ,” Jensen says, voice hoarse with lust and Jared groans against his neck, pushes his finger past the tightness and into Jensen’s ass. 

Jensen’s greedy for it, pushes back onto Jared’s finger and begs for Jared’s cock. They kneel onto the bed, Jared still pressed close behind Jensen and the head of Jared’s cock brushes against Jensen’s hole. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Jared says, rubbing his cock against Jensen’s hole. Jensen’s squirming in front of him, pushing back against Jared’s cock with reckless abandon. In one long movement, Jared lines himself up and slides home, burying himself in Jensen to the hilt. 

The burn is a mixture of pleasure and pain and Jensen keens. 

Jared fucks him, hard and unforgiving - like he has a point to prove in the way he's driving Jensen closer to orgasm with each thrust. When Jensen bends over to brace himself against the bed, Jared pulls him flush against his chest, changes the angle and they’re both up on their knees as Jared sinks in deeper, twists Jensen’s head to lick at his mouth as he thrusts. 

Jensen comes without a hand on his cock and Jared follows seconds after, hips slamming into Jensen one last time before he stills.

\+ + +

They wake up entwined the next morning, and Jensen has a split second to panic before Jared’s arms pull him closer and he whispers, “day off” into the skin on Jensen’s neck.

Jensen relaxes against Jared, feels Jared’s thigh slide between his. Jensen’s ass is a little sore, but it’s a welcome ache and Jensen feels his cock twitch as he remembers last night. The fact that Jared doesn’t have work today is icing on the cake, and Jensen’s feeling pretty damn good.

Jared’s still sleep warm as Jensen slides under the sheets, but he wakes up with a keen as Jensen sinks his mouth onto Jared’s cock, hollowing his cheeks. Jared’s hands are scrabbling at the sheets, fistfuls of cotton in his hands and Jensen just takes him deeper, runs his tongue over the head and enjoys the groan it tears from Jared’s chest. A few seconds later, Jared comes across Jensen’s tongue, salty and bitter before dragging Jensen up his body for a kiss. 

Yeah, today’s going to kick some serious ass.

They head into town for breakfast and Jared is sheepish as he apologises for the lack of food in the house. 

Jared takes Jensen to an old fashioned diner, raves about the pancakes and Jensen beams at the mile-a-minute way Jared’s talking, bubbly and excited. They find a booth in the corner and Jared doesn’t think twice as he slides in against Jensen and rests a hand on Jensen’s thigh under the table. 

The food is good, and Jensen has to admit that he’s impressed at Jared’s ability to eat. Must store it all in his legs or something. 

It shouldn't feel so good to just lean into Jared, shouldn't feel so right to slide his hand into Jared's like it's the most natural thing in the world. 

It shouldn't, but it _does_.

\+ + +

They're walking down the street and Jared just slips his hand into Jensen's back pocket. Jensen laughs softly to himself and then blushes because this is pretty blatant, there's no subtlety to the gesture. He casts his eyes around, panics at the idea of running into Genevieve because this, what they're doing? It's cheating. Jensen never wanted to be that guy, not since Jeff, especially since Jeff.

Jared's watching him when Jensen comes back to himself, and he smiles awkwardly because Jared's known him for less than a week but it feels like a lifetime. 

They pass a grocery store and Jared mentions something about lube and condoms, which makes Jensen blush even harder. Jared's totally doing it on purpose. 

Somehow, they end up at Jeff's bookstore. Jensen's against the idea, doesn't want to seem like he's showing Jared off to Jeff. Jared drags Jensen in saying, "C'mon, Jen, I wanna see one of your books."

Unwillingly, Jensen relents.

The store is flooded with morning sunlight and Jensen breathes in the familiar musky smell that lingers in the air. Jared smiles at him big and bright in the tiny store and Jensen shouldn't want to crowd him against a row of books and kiss that smile right off his face, but he does. 

Jeff appears a moment later, cardboard box in hand and Jensen feels like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Jared's got his hands all over him, they're flush against each other and Jeff coughs loudly, more out of awkwardness than tension. 

Jensen separates himself from Jared, takes one of Jared's hands and leads him over to Jeff. 

"Jared, this is Jeff," Jensen says, gesturing between them both, "Jeff, this is my – this is Jared." Jensen hopes the fumble isn't too obvious, but Jeff is eerily perceptive so he’s probably figured it out. 

Jared extends a hand over the counter and Jeff shakes it without hesitation. Jensen's never been prouder to have Jeff as a friend because he’s so great about it, starts chatting away to Jared and the knot in Jensen’s chest eases a little. 

Jensen's cell buzzes in his pocket and he jumps, nearly drops it and then presses it to his ear, apologising silently to Jared and Jeff. It’s Mike, calling about the book and Jensen decides to be honest. 

“It’s uh, it’s not really happening, Mike.” Jensen removes his glasses and knuckles at his eyes. The silence on the other end of the line is heavy with tension, but Jensen continues.

“I’m heading in a different direction, and I think it’ll be great. You just gotta trust me on this one.” 

There’s resignation in Mike’s tone, but he’s always trusted Jensen’s instincts and Jensen hears Mike’s quiet "Okay" and thanks him for understanding. 

Jensen looks over to where Jared and Jeff are talking animatedly, gesturing wildly with their hands and a part of Jensen wants to take a photo of this moment, as silly as that sounds. He wants to remember the fact that Jared, this charming, ridiculous, gorgeous stranger has entered his life and changed it, made it better in a way he never thought possible. 

Jared turns to look at Jensen over his shoulder, smile playing at his lips and Jensen’s the biggest girl in the world because he smiles back, face split wide like a loon.

\+ + +

They’re in Jared’s truck again, headed home when Jared turns to Jensen, serious and says “I want to end things with Genevieve.” And Jensen has no idea how to respond to that. On the one hand it’s exactly what he wanted, exactly what the selfish part of him had been hoping for, but to hear Jared say it like that, so honest and casual, is somehow… wrong.

“You’re just going to leave her,” Jensen says, and it’s not a question.

Jared pulls over, kills the engine and looks Jensen in the eyes. It’s started to rain and Jensen can hear the pitter patter of drops as they hit the roof. This isn’t right. Jensen can’t let Jared do this, can’t let him abandon some girl because he’s not sure if it’ll work out. As much as he wants to.

“I love her, Jensen,” Jared says, “but I’m not in love with her.” _I’m in love with you_ , he doesn’t say. 

The rain’s falling harder now, fat drops that thunk against the roof in an uneven kind of melody and Jensen listens for a while, tries not to think about the ache in his chest. 

“Do you need me to say it?” Jared says into the silence.

Jensen does need Jared to tell him, in no uncertain terms, what the hell he’s thinking. There’s only one way Jensen can justify what they’re doing, and that’s if Jared tells him exactly what he’s feeling. 

“I love you,” Jared says quietly, almost like he’s afraid to speak too loudly and Jensen almost misses the words as they get lost in the sound of the rain outside. Jared notices and hauls Jensen towards him, cups Jensen’s face in his hands and tells him again.

“I _love you_ , okay?” Jensen’s heart clenches painfully as Jared continues, “It sounds crazy, I know, but I feel like – I know you.” And Jensen does know, of course he knows what Jared’s talking about, has felt it stronger and stronger over the past day, this feeling like Jared is it for him. Jared’s the guy. 

Jensen only hesitates for a moment before he presses his lips to Jared’s and says, “Me too,” a deep breath and then, “me too.”

\+ + +

They break to news to Genevieve the next day.

She's amazing, Jensen realises. Even though it breaks her heart, she somehow lets Jared go. It pulls at something in Jensen - maybe she always knew about them - and the more Jensen studies her face, the more he's certain. She cares for Jared enough to let him go.

Jared, however, doesn’t do so well. He’s wracked with guilt on the drive home and Jensen thinks that maybe he should have convinced Jared to go back to her. Maybe this thing that they have, whatever it is, isn’t worth breaking hearts over. Maybe Jensen’s being selfish to want Jared all to himself, to be able to steal lazy kisses from him in the mornings, rub shoulders as they fight for the bathroom mirror. 

Maybe it’s wrong to want that. 

Jensen pulls up outside Jared’s house and kills the engine, suddenly aware of how quiet Jared is. He drags a hand through his hair and debates whether or not to tell Jared what he’s been thinking.

“You can still change things,” Jensen says, “she loves you, Jared.”

This doesn’t seem to improve things. Jared gets out of the car a second later, slams it shut behind himself and storms around to Jensen’s side of the car. 

“Open the door, Jensen,” Jared’s face is half lit by the porch light, half draped in darkness as he looks through the window at Jensen. 

Jensen nods, swallows past the lump in his throat and gets out of the car. The second he’s out, Jared is pinning him to the side of the car, hands rough and needy on his hips, his face, his ass. 

“ _Don’t you do that_ ,” Jared says, shaking his head from side to side. There are tears forming in the corners of his eyes and Jensen wants to wipe them away, wants to soothe the hurt that wrinkles Jared’s brow. “I’m not some lovesick teenager Jensen, I know what this is, I chose you because I want this. I want _us_.”

Jensen nods, can’t think of anything to say to that. He’s starting to shiver from the cold, trembles that wrack his body but maybe it’s not just the cold. Maybe it’s the fact that Jared just came out and said what Jensen needed to hear. Jared _chose_ him.

He seals his mouth to Jared’s, puts everything into it, tries to say without words how much this means to him. Jared gives as good as he gets, pulls Jensen tighter against his body and cradles Jensen’s head in one large hand, tongue tracing the curve of Jensen’s teeth. 

It’s cold but Jared’s warm against him, hands sliding under his shirt and – 

“Fuck! Your hands are freezing,” Jensen hisses against Jared’s neck. Jared laughs and Jensen feels the vibrations in Jared’s chest, feels them rising in his chest too.

They hurry inside, noses red from the cold and Jensen can’t stop laughing. He’s giddy with happiness, feels a smile pull at his cheeks, sees a return smile on Jared’s face. 

That night they fuck on Jared's bed, slow and messy and lazy. Jensen comes wordlessly with Jared's hand on his cock, face pressed into the curve of Jared's shoulder.

\+ + +

Jensen's a writer, but see, there's one thing he's learned about his profession. Without inspiration, he might as well earn his keep by writing instruction manuals. Great writing comes from experience, yes, but it's the moments that inspire you to write it down that really matter.

Jensen's having one of those moments right now. He's watching Jared sleep, tangled up in the sheets of his bed and for the life of him, Jensen can't imagine waking up without that solid weight beside him.

Jared shifts in his sleep, tightens his arms around Jensen and tucks his face into the back of Jensen's neck. It's these moments, these little pieces of life that Jensen wants to write about. 

He lays awake and enjoys the feel of Jared's arms around him, the rise and fall of Jared's chest against his back. 

An hour later, Jared sinks into Jensen, a long, slow burn, and fucks him into the mattress. Jensen's legs are hooked over his shoulders but it's not the angle that's making Jensen want to come. It's not the fingers Jared splays on Jensen's hips, soft and demanding at the same time. It's the look in Jared's eyes, the pure, unfiltered love that Jensen sees in the way Jared looks at him.

He comes with his face against Jared's neck, keening Jared's name.

\+ + +

The next night Jared cooks Jensen dinner.

It should be ridiculously cheesy because, seriously, Jared is cooking him dinner, but somehow, it's not. Jensen sits at the kitchen table, watches as Jared moves around his kitchen with practised ease, pulling utensils out of drawers like he lives here. Which, to be honest, Jared sort of does.

Jared cooks the steaks perfectly, peppery and medium rare and Jensen thinks he must have done something really good in a past life to deserve this kind of treatment. 

They drink wine instead of beer, a smooth red that goes down really nicely with the steak, and yeah, it sounds really snobby, but Jensen enjoys the smooth taste of it, rolls it around on his tongue with the taste of steak and potatoes.

Jensen isn't allowed to help with the dishes, either. Yeah, he must have done something amazing to deserve this, something out of this world. 

Jared looks adorable with his shirt sleeves pushed up his arms and a tea towel thrown over his shoulder. Jensen comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Jared's waist, murmurs a husky thank you into the curls on Jared's nape. 

Dishes forgotten, Jared spins around and claims Jensen's mouth, pins him to the kitchen counter with his body and Jensen is totally trapped. Which, to be perfectly honest, it totally fine by him. Control kink, here we come. 

They fuck on the kitchen floor and Jensen gets wood burn on his ass (it's totally possible, okay) and afterwards he sucks Jared off against the kitchen cupboards, slow and teasing until Jared whines, deep in his throat and Jensen takes him all the way down, the taste of Jared's come across his tongue.

\+ + +

Showering has become a bit of a problem.

This is because lately, they haven't taken a shower alone. Jensen usually wakes up first, grabs a coffee and then a shower, and by the time he's lathered up his hair, a sleepy-eyed Jared is crowding into the stall with him.

The water is usually cold by the time they're done, but Jensen doesn't care. He leans back against the solid weight of Jared's chest, turns his head and kisses Jared, messy and slow until he can feel himself getting hard again.

On the mornings when Jensen tries to get work done, Jared's more of a hindrance than a help. 

"C'mon, Jensen, please? I want you."

Jensen shakes his head, eyes focused on his laptop screen where his protagonist Damian is trying to figure out if he should take a ride from a stranger. Jared pouts over the top of Jensen's screen and Jensen squawks when he feels Jared's lips around his cock. 

The laptop ends up on the floor as Jensen sinks down onto Jared's lap, impaling himself on Jared. Jensen watches the sheen of sweat forming on Jared skin, leans down to lick broad stripe along Jared’s neck and watches, fascinated as Jared's eyes roll back in his head. 

A few more pumps of Jared's hips and Jensen is coming in thick spurts that cover their stomachs. Jared smiles up at him through sweaty bangs and suggests a shower, cheeky glint in his eye. 

Jensen mutters something about Jared being the death of him, but he follows Jared into the shower, nevertheless.

They fall into an easy routine with each other. Jared stays with Jensen for months at a time, only leaving for work, and they fuck in every room of the house. When they're not at Jensen's house, they're at Jared's. Home has become a much looser definition for them both. It's not about possessions or four walls anymore, and as cheesy as it sounds, they've found a home in each other. It’s been a year since they met each other and even now, Jensen’s still as crazy for Jared as ever.

\+ + +

They’re tangled in Jensen’s sheets, Jared’s thigh thrown over Jensen’s and his hand on Jensen’s chin, fingers skating recklessly over the stubble coating it. The laptop is balanced precariously on Jensen’s lap but he’s typing away regardless. Jared has come to hate that darn laptop, but as Jensen rightly points out to him (all the time) this laptop is what allows them to have nice things, like hot showers and electricity.

Jensen still feels guilty about the whole Genevieve mess, doesn’t live a day without feeling sorry for her, but it’s a double edged sword. He met Jared because of it. 

Jared yawns sleepily next to him, stretches his limbs and Jensen hears the soft pop of Jared’s shoulders. Pressing a kiss to the warm, smooth skin he finds there, Jensen can't feel guilty for wanting it.

Good news is, despite distractions like showers and Jared's propensity for early morning nudity, Jensen’s book is nearly done. He’ll send it off to Mike in the next few days, and boy will that get him off his back. It’s never been this easy for Jensen, he’s never had such an easy time getting through a novel, and he knows that a big part of that is Jared’s doing.

\+ + +

Four months later, Jared and Jensen visit Jeff’s bookstore.

It’s the same as Jensen remembers it, a few posters changed here and there, but there’s something oddly comforting about visiting an old friend in a shop that has so many great memories. It’s like a time capsule, untouched by the goings on of the world. He's always loved that about Jeff's shop, and if he's being honest with himself, it's a quality that he'd always admired in Jeff. That ability to go through life experiencing ups and downs like everybody else, but to remain a constant. To know who you are throughout it all. 

Jeff’s eyes widen as they enter the store, he takes in the long line of Jared’s arm on Jensen’s shoulder and smiles at them.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he says, and Jensen smiles back, flushing a little as Jared pulls him closer and plants a kiss on Jensen’s neck. 

“We just wanted to see if you had it on the shelves yet,” Jared says, and Jeff takes a minute to look confused before it clicks. He watches as Jared beams proudly at Jensen. It’s a look that Jensen won’t see because his eyes are on Jeff, and even though it makes Jeff’s heart ache a little, he’s happy that Jensen has someone who loves him that much. 

He leads them over to the ‘New Titles’ section and pulls a book of the shelf, handing it to Jared with a wink and a whispered, “Check the blurb.” 

Jensen comes over to Jared, reaching for the book and Jared holds it above his head until Jensen stops trying to grab it. Jared clears his throat. 

“ _Serendipity_ tells the story of Katrina, a – ”

“Okay, okay. Just let me see it,” Jensen says as he pulls Jared in for a kiss, which as far as distractions go, works really well. 

Jared’s smiling at him, beaming like an idiot and Jensen doesn’t understand why he’s giving him this look. 

“You did it, Jensen,” Jared tells him, and Jensen turns the book over in his hands, scans the blurb and then spots it. 

Jensen re-reads it again just to make sure, doesn’t want this to be some kind of cruel joke, but as his eyes pass over ‘Worthy of the bestseller list', Jensen’s pulse ratchets up.

Jared pulls him into a kiss and Jensen can feel the smile against his lips. 

Breaking the kiss, he looks over his shoulder and Jeff is smiling too, eyes crinkling at the corners and Jensen has to hold back a cry that wants to tear loose from his chest. It’s relief and acceptance all at once.

\+ + +

They swing by the local bottle shop on the way home to Jensen’s place, and tempting as it is to buy thirteen cases of beer, Jared chooses a bottle of French champagne. He hides it from Jensen until they get back home.

There’s a lesson in all of this, Jensen thinks as he raises the champagne glass to his lips. Jared’s fingers are twined through his and they’re staring out at the view from Jensen’s porch. 

All it takes is one person to change your life. 

It’s cold, like Vancouver always seems to be, but for the first time, Jensen doesn’t care. Instead he focuses on the warmth of Jared’s hand in his, the easy comfort of his embrace. Somehow, writing a bestseller doesn't seem to compare.

_fin._


End file.
